Warning Shot
by squeekness
Summary: The Xmen have moved into their new home, but Jael isn't about to let them get too comfortable. Part three of my Game series.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: The X-men have moved into their new home, but Jael isn't about to let them get too comfortable. Part three of my Game series.

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Art is up on my homepage for First Moves if anyone is interested in looking at it. My page has been revamped a little because I am now adding art for the Game series. I now have separate galleries for the different series, but all the same art is still there.

If anyone is interested, I have a forum set up to discuss my work. It can be reached through my profile page.

---------------------------------

(One)

_I can hear your next question already – "How can you know so much from just vague whisperings in the black, Dreamer?"_

_Well, I didn't remain in the simple black for long. I heard only the voices at first because I myself was no longer out in the world. I had shattered and that shattering was so severe and so complete that I had no other recourse but to build a wall to protect what little sanity I had left. The wall I built was rather grand, I must say, one that no ordinary person could hope to tear down. Fortunately for me, it was an extraordinary person who came to rescue me._

"_Who was that?" you might ask. Ah, but that would spoil the surprise and since I -- being the precog in this tale who knows how the story will end -- know also that it would be a crime for me to give it all away at once. You'll meet my dear friend soon enough, I promise. _

_As I said, I hid behind my wall, but once I was freed from it and repaired, my dreams began to change. I saw the door and walked through it into the room of black as I had done before. I still heard the voices with their strange vague whisperings, but then -- the very first night after I was so forcefully smashed back together again as viciously as I'd been torn apart -- a window opened up in my black little room. Where there had once been a wall, there was now a square of grey static floating there like a movie screen. It didn't show me vivid pictures of a brave new world, not just yet anyhow. All there was at first was grey static for a moment and then something appeared. It was a simple object, just a small stack of books._

"_Your new Master will bring you these in a few days," the voices said. And he did. _

_My new Master was quite persistent in wooing me, he was clever enough to know that mere words were lost on one so damaged as myself. He offered me treats instead – books, something new to eat, new toys to play with. His tenacity won out in the end, I was soon accepting these small bribes of his and later, grew to love them._

_Soon after that, I saw the vague outline of a woman – "You will meet someone new tomorrow." And I did. She was my clutchmate and sister, Babette, and one of the most beautiful Siskans I have ever known._

_At first these things were wonderful, even fun, but when I would return to the black room in my dreams at night, I would still hear her, my special one, she who calls out to me always – "Catch me, Aiden! Catch me!"_

_I can't explain why, but her words terrify me as much as they fill me with hope._

---------------------

The same day that Gambit, Molly and Kimble had finally settled their personal affairs, Logan walked into his new office and set his box of records and books down. This office was very nice and roomy, having a large filing cabinet and a small bank of video monitors on the wall. Everything was fully automated, top of the line technology. He would have more access and freedom to investigate and observe here than back at the Mansion.

This was day one of his new job and he couldn't be more thrilled. Back at Westchester, he'd been Head of Security. This new Complex was a much bigger place and that vocation was now divided between six individuals, himself included. Each one was given a slice of the facility and that became their jurisdiction. As each new group of refugees and returning X-men were added, they were placed in the complex together. The Westchester people were pretty much all lumped on the same two levels and these became Logan's territory since he knew them best. That territory included the two Siskans, Henry's labs, the gymnasium, and the Solarium. He had insisted on having that section of the facility because he wanted to keep watch on Kimble and be able to have a say in anything that came up.

Each of the two floors Wolverine now controlled had a small security station that anyone with a complaint could come to. This main office had a lockup with six secure holding cells, just like the Security block back at the Institute. Logan was now a small chief of police and he had handpicked his own crew to assist him. He had Max with him of course, but also some of the Institute's top telekinetics, including two new guys, Jerry Maxwell and John Brown. He also had two of his favorite teammates on his crew, the feisty Rogue and Kurt Wagner, the teleporter known as Nightcrawler and his best drinking buddy.

Wolverine and his crew were to make the rounds on each floor and be a comforting presence to those who might think this place unsafe. Logan had the power to arrest and to detain if it came down to it, plus he was in charge of making sure all of the security measures were in place. He distributed badges within his territory and made sure no one was sneaking around on a level where they didn't belong. Logan was a high ranking X-man and Charles Xavier, now the head honcho of this would be Clan, was trusting him not to be a bully and abuse his power.

Logan didn't think his job was going to be that difficult. Most folks here were well disciplined, it was just nice to know there was someone you could go to to settle disputes or if something got stolen. He knew that often the biggest problem in a mutant community such as this would most likely be contraband related. Substance abuse was high amongst mutants, they didn't always feel they fit in or some believed their mutations made them immune to the substances' side effects or that they were above the law. The rules here were simple, drinking was kept to a minimum and kept mainly to the Clubs where it could be regulated. Narcotics would not be allowed at all. Logan knew that would be the hardest part, keeping the illegal drugs out. With his new position, he was almost as good as a vice cop now. He would have to keep a sharp eye and nose on things.

The Westchester folks were kept close to one another. Wolverine, Karen, and their brood were given an apartment only four doors down from where Remy and Kimble were located. Henry's main lab was just above that as was Fallen and Seth's apartment. Cyclops and Jean were right next door to Logan now as well. Rogue was on his other side. His primary teammates were right beside him and that suited him just fine. He had a feeling that would be critical if and when Jael ever showed up to collect Kimble for real.

Logan was taking no chances on Kimble's potential misbehavior, he'd brought along the Siskan's entertainment materials from the holding cell back home and was already getting them nice and comfy in holding cell six, down on the end where it was nice and private. Kimble had spent most of his last days at Westchester in the lockup and Wolverine had a feeling it wouldn't be long before he was back here again. Logan didn't dislike Kimble, he just didn't trust the guy to keep it together. He didn't share Remy's optimism that Kimble could just magically blend in with the society here, even Seth really hadn't integrated well. Seth got by because he kept himself isolated and he had a strong Mistress to keep him in line. Fallen hadn't tried to integrate Seth as Remy had with Kimble and that had worked out just fine. Too bad Gambit couldn't admit that he'd done his best and should just lock Kimble up for good, all nice and quiet.

Logan opened up the box he'd brought and started setting up his files. This was a nice room, he'd never had an official office back at Westchester. It was sign that Charles had finally admitted that militarizing and organizing this large group of mutants was going to be mandatory if they were going to keep a civilized society in place. Three hundred folks with various powers and temperaments made for a highly volatile environment and their numbers were growing daily. He was never more conscious of that than now. He had his kids to worry about.

Three of them. Jeez! When had that happened? It wasn't all that long ago he'd declared he'd never marry or ever bring a child into this ugly barbaric world. He had his precious Jessie, a precocious six year old, hair as red as her mother's and just as gentle. Leslie was his four year old darling, a rugrat eager to get into everything and anything. Then there was Carter. Carter was still an infant, just about seven months old now. He was quiet, that one, a natural brooder and his steel grey eyes ever watchful. His hands were disfigured and at first they thought he was deformed until Henry had his fingers X-rayed and they discovered the buds of what would be future talons. He would have the powerful clawed hands of his uncle, Sabretooth. Logan just prayed he wouldn't inherit the bad temper and instability as well.

Kids, who would have thought it? His kids? Guess it just went to show that you never knew what life was going to throw at you. Logan was ever watchful, using his powers and knowledge to keep his kids and his X-men safe.

His wife Karen had opened up shop here at the Complex as well. Being the house shrink had its perks, most of her clients had moved along with her. She was close by, only two doors down from his new office. If someone rowdy was brought in, she would be right there to assist. She still had commitments back East, but Fallen could shuffle her back and forth for a while until they were done. Karen was his right hand partner in all things and he would be happy when she was here to stay.

Logan unpacked his box and sat at his desk. He wasn't one to be happy about change, but here he couldn't complain. He had more equipment and ultimately more power than before. He wished he wouldn't be in a position to have to use it, but he knew better. Just having Kimble here pretty much assured that the holding cells would see some use.

"Hey, boss. Like the new digs?"

Wolverine looked up to see Rogue standing in his doorway. He was glad to have her on his team, she was a natural powerhouse. She was tough as nails and didn't take crap from nobody. "Yeah, actually I do."

"Have you seen the new Danger Room Henry built here? He's outdone himself this time." While some of the senior staff hadn't been aware of this new facility, Henry had been busy here for some time. He would fly back and forth between both facilities and had been working closely with Warren on seeing that things were installed properly and all the precautions taken. Many of the more sophisticated options, like the Danger Room, were operational now or pretty close to it.

"Nope," Logan answered, "But I've been invited to break her in later today, same as you."

"Lookin' forward to a little lettin' loose. All those mutie haters outside just give me the creeps. In the meantime, Ah just got a call. There's been a disturbance in the Third Level Common Room. Someone iced up the soda machine. Literally."

_Mutants, gotta love 'em._ "Anyone seen Bobby in the area?"

"Actually, he's down in the gym. Seems like we've got more than one Iceboy here."

"Lovely."

"Shall we?" Rogue said, sweeping her arm out into the hallway.

"Let's," Logan replied, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

---------------------

Remy hobbled up the stairs to the Danger Room control booth, cursing his injury with each step. The brace and cane had given him more mobility than the cast, but that didn't mean navigating an upward climb was any easier. An elevator had been installed for this upstairs room but he wasn't about to admit he was feeble enough to have to use it. He did feel oddly better than he had just yesterday morning, as if that last session with Kimble the previous night had revived him somewhat. His leg had been itching like mad all day, like it was telling him to hurry up and get this healing over with. The stairs were mercifully short and lead to a control room that oversaw the newly improved Danger Room that had been installed in the Complex.

He had been invited to this practice session but, being on the disabled list, couldn't fully participate. It wasn't a position he was used to being in and he had been hating every minute of it. He felt like he was missing out on everything and was going more than a little stir crazy. He wasn't alone in being sidelined or disabled, Charles was overseeing the session taking place down below.

The Danger Room was a room that Henry McCoy and Charles Xavier had designed that used machines and Shi'ar technology to simulate environments and opponents so that the X-men could exercise their more dangerous skills in safety. They were supervised from above and evaluated for strengths and weakness to keep their skills sharp and their confidence high.

Charles' most senior staff was no longer assigned to squads like they had been on years before, they were older now and that experience was being spent on training the next generation. That is not to say they didn't go out on missions when needed, but not as organized squads or groups. With the emerging human threat outside their walls due to Jael's destructive Game playing, it was more important than ever to see to it that those most powerful on the X-team stayed in proper shape.

This new room was larger and more sophisticated than the one back home. It was the size of a football field and currently simulating an urban environment. Grouped together was the remnants of Gambit's old Blue squad – Wolverine, Rogue, Phoenix, Cyclops and Nightcrawler.

As if anticipating the troubles to come, Charles had programmed in a simulated anti-mutant death squad similar to the ones being reported in the papers. The group of ersatz terrorists wasn't particularly large, there were only about five of them, but they were heavily armed. What was going to make this session difficult, was the parameters that Charles had set – none of the humans or surrounding structures were to be seriously harmed. Property damage and loss of life were the two chief complaints among the innocent bystanders the media enjoyed so much to interview.

Charles spared Gambit hardly a glance as he heard the thief's clumsy entrance, but greeted warmly, "Glad you could join us. Have a seat."

Remy shuffled to a nearby chair and dumped himself in with a grace only this nimble thief could manage. "Dey get started yet?"

Charles smiled just a little, "Only just now. You're right on time."

-----------------------

Inside the Danger Room, Wolverine was in the back of the group, biding his time. The squad here today had not operated as such for some time, but they had fallen back into their old roles as easily as putting on a pair of worn but well loved pair of shoes. Cyclops as usual was up front with his wife, Jean, trying to negotiate with the gang of mutie haters. Of course they knew this was a simulated exercise and that talking their way out of it most likely was not going to work, but they had to do it for ritual. Sometimes these sessions were taped and played for students so all the bases had to be covered.

Behind Phoenix and Cyclops stood Nightcrawler and Rogue. Rogue was a bit of scrapper and it showed, already her fists had clenched and her shoulders tightened as she scanned the group in front of them, already assessing their weaknesses. Rogue had earned every inch of her codename, she was a bit of a loner these days and not always predictable in the field – with one exception. She could always be counted on to have your back. Logan had seen her bust through brick walls and plow through bad guys like a bowling ball through pins to save him when she thought he needed the help. She was fearless and courageous, never hesitating to do the rough stuff. It was the main reason he had selected her to be one of the high ranking officers on his security detail.

Next to her stood Kurt Wagner, or Nightcrawler as he was called in the field. He was a handy man to have around, he was a teleporter and master gymnast, hard to catch and agile. He could blend into shadows and cling to walls in dark places without being noticed. He was also the cool head to balance out Rogue and Logan on the team. Kurt was soft spoken and kind, quick to lend a compassionate ear to your troubles or a hand to help out. He often volunteered to do work with homeless mutants and any new people who came on board back at the Mansion. Kurt hadn't been here in the new facility long and already he was finding new ways to be of help by volunteering through his church and seeing that the new people found their way around. It wasn't always easy for him, his mutation wasn't limited to his ability to teleport, he had the appearance of a demon – a dark indigo complexion, yellow eyes, elven ears and a demon's pointed tail made him look a lot less friendly than he actually was. His hands and feet were also strange, he possessed only three fingers and toes. While odd in appearance, they actually gave him greater gripping power and added to his agility. Unfortunately he looked much scarier than he actually was and it could take some time before people got used to him.

Logan, the fall back guy or last resort, remained in the back. He would step in when all the other plans were tried and failed. It looked like his services might needed this round.

"We'ere here to help you and stop the violence," Cyclops was saying. He was attempting to persuade the gang of men in front of him to stand down. It didn't seem to be working.

"You people think you can come into our streets, into our homes, and do as you please! These are our homes and our streets and we're going to take them back!" The man in front raised his gun and fired.

Jean's response was swift and effective. Jean Grey, codename Phoenix, was a master telepath and telekine. These Danger Room exercises served her well – she couldn't telepathically read the AI of simulated people -- the Siskans included --and that deficiency kept her from depending on her mental powers too much. Even her perceptive mind could be deceived, it was best to be able to operate without telepathy in case it was ever blunted or blocked out somehow. Years of training and field work had her responding with no more thought than scratching an itch. She threw up a telekinetic shield to protect her teammates from the oncoming bullets, making it not so hard that the bullets would bounce back into the man who fired, but that they would be ensnared in it and kept from causing further damage.

Jean had no more than raised the shield when Nightcrawler played his own hand. He teleported swiftly, leaving behind his trademark cloud of smoke with a soft "bamf"-ing sound. In what looked like a carefully orchestrated dance, he reappeared and disappeared in bursts around the five gang members, taking as many weapons from them as he could snatch and toss away. His power was disconcerting to the uninitiated, the men were simulated but their confusion was realistic enough. As fast as they could try to reach for him, Kurt was gone and somewhere else.

When Jean saw Kurt's signature plumes of black smoke, she dissolved the shield she had made and she and the rest of her teammates advanced as one. Cyclops had the ability to fire beams of energy from his eyes. That did not mean it was his first option of attack. He started with his hands, using his martial arts skills to disable the first man he reached. The X-men took cues from their police counterparts and came prepared. He and the others always carried plastic wire tie hand cuffs and as fast as he was able, he had the man twisted around and backwards, and then cuffed before the man could do more than gasp in surprise.

The next guy was a bit faster than the first. He dodged Scott's grasp for him and snatched at one of the guns Kurt had tossed aside. He had no more than laid his fingers on it when he was fired upon. A bright flash of red had come from Cyclops's visor and made a sharp stinging brand on the back on his hand.

He howled in pain and surprise , but was next sprawled out on his back. Rogue had taken flight and given him a swift kick to the chin to lay him out. She could have hit him much harder, but her training had given her fine control and she was ever mindful of the mission parameters. She could have easily killed him but that would have defeated the purpose of the exercise. With two down and three left to go -- technically two, since Nightcrawler was wrestling down the last guy he 'ported to -- Rogue never broke stride as she took on the next man, bowling him over and knocking him down. Her enhanced strength was no match for him and he was down and cuffed in no time.

Logan meanwhile had held back, watching the goings on with a smile. He was enjoying watching Rogue work. He was glad he had chosen her to help on his security team, she had her man down in five seconds flat, cuffed and ready to go. Wolverine could have chosen to jump in here, but he was choosing to use this as an opportunity to watch Rogue and 'Crawler work. He was evaluating their effectiveness for his security team and was quite pleased with what he had seen.

The last man remaining from the gang took flight. Scott turned and grinned at Logan, the one member who had done nothing more than stand back and watch so far this session. Nothing needed to be said, Wolverine launched himself after the guy with animal swiftness. It wasn't even close to a fair fight, for his size Logan was quite speedy when he had to be. He would be the first to admit that he liked this, hunting down his prey and taking them down. He loved the kill, a guilty pleasure he kept to himself. Unlike Sabretooth, he had learned to hold that deadly secret in check, he would not harm anyone without a good reason. He did not kill for sport. He jumped the man from behind and they tumbled to the ground, a wolf tackling its prey with all the skill of a true hunter. Logan pinned the man down with his superior weight – he was about three hundred pounds with all of his metal bones – and had him cuffed before the dust had even begun to settle.

--------------------

Remy sat in his seat, one hand absently scratching at his leg. The itch was deep down inside and he would never be able to get at it, but the rubbing still felt good. He was watching the Danger Room exercise and feeling a sort of gloom settle over him. He knew he would never be able to sit out any of these exercises for long. Like Logan, it was in his blood now. Plus he was concerned that if something did happen with Jael right away, he wouldn't be unable to hold up his end of things. He wanted his family safe and he couldn't imagine not being able to help out.

"Henry says you should be back on the team soon," Xavier commented. He hadn't exactly pried into Remy's thoughts, the boy was telegraphing them all on his own without speaking a word. "You have an appointment with him soon?"

"Oui. Tomorrow. But de brace ain't gonna come off a couple more weeks at least," Remy replied, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Man, he was so bored.

"Well, Kimble should be keeping you busy."

Gambit grinned. " 'E still a little nervous 'bout t'ings."

"Well, he can be assured he will be safe here. With all the protection we have installed and having the bulk of the team here, he should have nothing to worry about."

"I'll keep an eye on him."

Charles looked at him with a smile. "I'm sure you will."


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Charles Xavier and his people had good reason to worry about security in their new home. The world was beginning to crumble all around them. Just one day after Kimble and Logan moved into their new digs, a new bill was presented to Congress, a Mutant Registration Act bill that for the first time actually had a prayer of passing. Jael's actions in New York had folks worrying more about who their neighbors were than their own rights.

The reaction among mutant peoples was swift and chaotic. Retaliation gangs were formed, political marches made, but mostly members of the mutant community wanted a place to hide. Charles had no choice but to open his doors to whomever was willing to make the trip to his Mansion. No one was turned away but screenings were made. Anyone who was deemed "safe" was eligible to be moved to the new Arizona Complex, making Charles feel all the more justified at having created it. The future he envisioned had him eventually emptying the Mansion if it came down to it. He had so much custom equipment installed in the new Complex he simply felt it was safer there.

SHIELD gave Charles little trouble over all the new influx of people coming his way. Truth be told, the government was happy enough to have the troublesome mutants herded out of the way of those who would harm them. Not because they cared so much as it was that dead mutants made for bad press. The less targets there were, the better it was for everyone.

Fallen was proving to be quite valuable. With the Lucky Dragon able to make the trip across the country in so little time, she was now the chief form of transport for refugees and supplies. She was making regular flights now, twice a day and keeping busy.

Kimble was busy as well. He did his best to settle in over the next couple of weeks. As promised, Remy began taking him to each of the two Clubs on the same secured level where they lived. Remy believed that these places would be safe for Kimble as far as any spies might go. Only those X-men with proper clearance could come in here. To see that Kimble was ready for a good time, Gambit made sure that Kimble had plenty of credits to spend.

Here the monetary system was handled in credits. Any cash that was brought from the outside was converted to credits, this way everything was simpler. Charles then invested the real cash back into the facility and kept the system going. You worked here and got paid in credits. This place had its own grocery stores and malls that took the credits you earned. Kimble was quite rich in the outside world, thanks to Sabretooth's inheritance to him, and Remy had seen to it that a nice chunk of that wealth was converted to credits for Kimble's use here. The Siskan wouldn't have to want for anything.

Kimble loved the Clubs and it showed on him early. There was a sparkle in his eye and gleam in his smile that had been missing for a very long time. Kimble spent most of his time with children, it was a treasure now to be with adults. He danced and laughed, blending right into the crowd here. With so many mutants of all colors, shapes and sizes, Kimble didn't seem out of place or special at all. He was bright and beautiful and it didn't take long for him to get noticed.

This Complex was full of strangers, hardly anyone here knew Kimble personally. He had no reputation to proceed him. Not many here knew of his instability, of his strange deviancies. The second night Kimble was out on the dance floor, Remy went home alone. The Siskan had been snapped up by a beautiful blonde technician and Remy was happy as a clam.

Gambit had watched with happiness as Kimble pursued his prey. Here was the Kimble of old, confident and playful, his body the picture of sensuality and grace. He became walking sex, not the hunched over pilot from back at the house. He moved smoothly through the crowds, smelling them all, reaching out with all of his senses until he selected the one he would pursue. The blonde technician had caught Kimble's eyes early and he zeroed in on her with all the intensity of a hunter who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. Remy watched as Kimble danced with her and joked around, turning on the charm.

_Just like ridin' a bike, _Remy thought to himself with a small amount of jealousy, he missed both the hunt and the feel of those Siskan eyes looking down on him hungrily like that. _Look at him go._ The change in the Siskan was uncanny, it was if all the crap that had happened to him just didn't matter anymore and he was smooth and witty, knowing all the right things to say and do. It wasn't long before he walked up to Remy, his eyes brimming with anticipation as he asked the thief to go on home without him.

"Sure t'ing, cher. You 'ave a good time," Remy replied, and left him to it.

Away in a corner, hardly noticed by the Siskan was Rogue, watching over all of this with no small amount of disdain. She was here on official business, Logan had asked her to help him keep an eye on Kimble's whereabouts and activities now that he had more freedom. She wasn't so happy with what she had seen.

First had come Remy, leading Kimble along like a father fox, teaching its young cub to hunt. They would come in as a pair and spend a moment or two chatting – she surmised -- about what delicacies the current crowd had to offer. Then Gambit would give Kimble a nudge and away the Siskan went, going after his prey with all the charm of a snake in the grass.

Rogue was disgusted at the sight of it. She still had lingering feelings for Remy, that would never change, but it was Kimble who would forever bear the brunt of her misgivings and jealousy. Kimble had come into their lives from out of nowhere, turning everything in Rogue's life upside down. Kimble had changed Gambit into someone else and she didn't feel it was a positive change, especially as it left her on the outside. Yes, Gambit was with Molly now, but that would never have happened if Kimble hadn't done whatever it was that he had done to Gambit. Remy's enhanced empathy changed the way he felt about everything, including her. Now she was alone. There had never been anyone else for her since she and Remy last broke up all those years ago. Most people, once they realized her touch was so deadly, avoided her. She certainty didn't get asked out on many dates.

She would never approve of Gambit taking Kimble out like this. The pilot was dangerous and unpredictable. His sexual habits were a disaster, or perhaps that was why he appealed to Remy so much. Watching them together reminded her that once Remy had been just as promiscuous. It looked like that hadn't changed insofar that Gambit had no trouble encouraging Kimble to get laid.

Not that Kimble needed much of a push. Rogue watched as Kimble skillfully cut a pony from the herd and began schmoozing the receptive female with all of his charm. He was laughing, touching her oh so gently, no doubt flattering her with all his worth just to get into her bed. It was working, she could see. It wasn't long before Kimble whispered something to Remy and then the pilot and his prize left the Club, leaving little doubt where they were heading.

Rogue sighed in exasperation, bowed her head, and made to follow.

-----------------

Kimble was too elated to know he was being followed. The girl he was now with was lovely and not a mutant at all. Not all of the X-men were mutants, it wasn't an exclusive club here. Charles had allies from all over and took in anyone who was willing to fight for his cause. The girl's name was Brenda and she took Kimble back to her place. She lived alone in her small room and they had total privacy. She had a thing for mutants, she said. She couldn't keep her hands off of them. Kimble wasn't about to complain.

She took him to bed and he lost himself in play, thanking Remy for this with all his heart. She was very beautiful to him, her shine was glowing bright with happiness from his attention and her body was warm from the oh so real blood rushing through it. Kimble had always desired to be of true flesh and blood. He equated it as being real, something he didn't really feel he was. A lot of his insecurity was based on this, but all of that was forgotten as he was embraced eagerly by his client and allowed to have his way.

Afterwards, they lay in bed and he held her as she drifted off to sleep. Sometimes, this was Kimble's favorite part, the loving after. She was snuggled pleasantly against him, off asleep while his hands brushed back her lovely blonde hair. _She's so beautiful,_ Kimble was thinking. _It would be nice to have this forever._

He startled slightly when he heard a tiny soft voice from within. The words were a warning in Lin's tiny Siskan. **_We cain't haves her for real. You knows what will happen if we do._**

The voices from his dream hadn't gone away. He didn't always hear them speak to him directly like this, but he felt their thoughts influencing his. He had been angry at the move and it had been Zander's anger that had pushed him to force the issue with Remy. No more being shoved around, Zander had said. Well, not without an argument anyway. As far as Kimble was concerned, he, the Lover, had won that battle. The lovemaking with Remy had been so good, a taste of the good old days. It would be nice to have more good times like that, maybe with someone else now that Remy was off limits, but Lin was much too fretful for that to happen, at least for now.

_Go away,_ Kimble scolded to the tiny voice inside. He didn't want to be hearing this, not again. _I ain't gonna lets ya spoil this fer me. She's so sweet an' fine. I wants her again._

Lin wasn't going to let the Lover have the last word. Kimble shuddered as he saw flashbacks of his former lovers, the ones who had claimed to have loved him for real and wanted to be with him always. They were all dead, except for Remy. He'd touched their lives and they perished, one by one, always leaving him alone. **_We's bad. We's the baddest thing in the world. We cain't have nobodys for real._**

_Kid's right, you know, _came another voice, this one deep and growly. Zander. _Fuck who ya want, but they cain't stay. Not a one of 'em. Besides, we gots work to do._

Kimble sat up in the bed, shaking now. This wasn't happening. He was supposed to be fixed, he was cured. _Stop it! Go away! I'll tell Remy 'bout yous an' he'll make the Games Master come again. He'll put yous down fer good!_

_Oh, like he done the last time? _Zander cackled bitterly. _Give it up, Kim. We're always gonna be here. Besides, you needs us._ _Or at least me, anaways. I'm gonna make sure that we keep Angel safe._

_This place is safe enough, Remy said so._

_Is it? I don't think you really believe that. How about you, Lin? You think this place is safe?_

**_No fuckin' way!_** Lin said, surprising them both with his language. Such words coming from a child, but Kimble had always loved to swear. **_It's too big in here. Too many doors and rooms. Too many places fer the bad ones ta hides. Gots ta keep it small. Best ta defend that way._**

_Couldn't have said it better m'self,_ Zander agreed.

Kimble sighed. _If I checks the place out, will ya leaves me alone?_

_Shure, _Zander said. _I knows what yer gonna find out. You'll be thankin' me, just you see._

_Good, now leaves me alone. I wants Brenda again after she's slept a little._

Lin wasn't finished. **_You 'member what I tolds ya. You cain't keeps her, Kim. It ain't safe. We don't wants her ta die._**

Kimble didn't respond with his voice, but he shuddered a little at the memories he had. He didn't want any more like those. Brenda stirred from behind him and tugged on him. "You okay? You aren't leaving, are you?"

"Not if ya don't wants me to," he replied, looking on her with the purest adoration. She was a client and the loveliest thing in his eyes at this moment. Just seeing her beauty and her bright shine made him see all the more that Lin was right. He would see no hurt come to this magnificent human creature. It was sure to happen if he held on to her too tightly. He would love her this night, love her well, and then let her go.

"Don't be silly," she teased and playfully pulled him back into the bed. "I could just eat you up like candy!"

Kimble laughed and lost himself in play once more. The private conversation he'd just had stayed with him though, and he kept his word.

---------------------------

The next day the change was all over Kimble's face. He'd served his first client, he had served the purpose for which he'd been made. The edginess was gone from his shine and that old Kimble confidence was back in his stride. Gambit thought for sure Kimble's problems were over. He was certain to meet someone and settle down.

It didn't happen. Kimble cruised all right, was out every night since Remy so thoughtfully watched over Angel for him, but he changed partners all the time, even when he met someone the next day he'd been with the night before. You got once with him, that was it. He stuck with no one. When Gambit asked him about it, Kimble just shrugged and made no comment. Remy was hoping Kimble was merely shopping around and didn't press the issue, it was early yet.

Kimble may have been having fun cruising, but he'd been given a task and he kept to it. He wasn't really obvious about it, but as he made his trips to the sun and back, as he was taken about by his new clients, his eyes were all over everything. Kimble's inspection was circumspect, he missed nothing, including the slide boxes for the badges. Long ago Gambit had showed Kimble how to bypass security boxes and restraining bracelets, his trust in them was gone. The boxes looked too cheesy, too easily bypassed by someone with the knowledge of such things. The Complex had a lot of exits and Kimble brought home maps and studied each and every one, wanting to learn the total layout of this place.

One afternoon, he made Remy bring him to the shield generators that were now on line. At a moment's notice, the generators could click on and provide a massive shield that covered the whole complex and landing strip. Remy claimed the shield could keep out missiles and other artillery. Kimble did not believe. Lin and Zander were right, this place was too big, it wasn't safe.

Outside the walls, anti-mutant hysteria had reached a fever pitch. There were lynchings and other horrible crimes taking place. Day after day, Fallen was transporting mutant refugees that had swamped the old Institute back in New York. They were being brought here and given succor, but were only allowed down to the lower levels when they had proved themselves. No one wanted to take any chances on Jael or any other faction bringing in spies.

Kimble kept a wary eye on the news. He wasn't supposed to be watching, but he did. He saw a double threat --- Jael and the human masses outside. He was obsessive about security. He had the video phone installed as Remy suggested, but had other alarms in place. He had a panic button that could call right down to the closest Security Office, the one where Wolverine had now taken charge. One press of a button and Kimble could have a whole squad of X-guys here to help him. He hoped it would be enough, but the dark whisperings from within spoke otherwise. He would have to be careful.

Kimble escorted his precious Angel back and forth to school. He was worried about her the whole time she was gone from his sight, fussing enough about it that Logan assigned her a bodyguard for when she was in class just to settle the Siskan down.

Wolverine was all put out that Kimble was back in the world again but had no say in the matter. Until Kimble did something violent he had no right to force Kimble into the lockup. He pitched a fit when he learned from Rogue that Kimble had gone active in the Clubs, but both Karen and Remy wore him down, reminding him how a sexually active Siskan is a happy one. _Let it be,_ they said, and Logan was forced to choke it down. But his eyes were ever watchful. One beating, one fuckup and Kimble was locked up, for good this time.

Wolverine wasn't the only one concerned about Kimble's safety and that of those around him. Just for precaution, Kimble was outfitted with a special tracking device. Beast had long since given up on bracelets, Kimble had shown time and time again that he could hack through them given enough time. Thinking only of Kimble's security, Henry had gone to Seth and the two of them had put their minds together on how to keep a locating device on Kimble without his being able to remove it. They had come up with a device that was swallowed, a modified sensor probe. It was well known that Siskans had a significant weakness, they didn't stand up well to a strong electrical charge. The device was outfitted with a smartdrive battery that would give Kimble a good sized zap if he tried to remove the device himself with his telekinetic power. It would burn out the tracker if it did zap him, but hopefully the Siskan would be knocked out long enough to be restrained and taken back into custody for his transgression. The device was also keyed into the security boxes located throughout the facility and would set off an alarm if he passed into an area where he wasn't allowed. "Lo-Jack" for Siskans, Remy teased, though Kimble found little humor in it. No one wanted to take a chance with Kimble taking off or worse -- being taken unawares. Kimble hadn't been happy at being made to swallow the device, it was a kind of surrender, but Seth did his best to take the sting out of it by swallowing a device himself, putting them on an even standing.

Wolverine and others had good reason to be wary of Kimble's state of mind in this new place. In spite of his happy and playful nightlife, Kimble's daytime life struggled along. He had some trouble adapting to the new environment. He had a whole series of changes to get used to, not just his new living arrangements. This was a well established Complex that had its own daycare center already in place. Another wasn't needed. The one here was happy to receive him as a helper, but he wasn't in charge and running the show like he'd been back at the Mansion. Things were done differently here and he didn't always agree. With the emphasis on physical fitness the Xavier Institute had, Charles saw to it that there were plenty of large jungle gyms and play equipment for the children, but it was all inside. The desert heat outside was just too brutal, but Kimble didn't want to accept that. He found the inside gyms closed in and suffocating. It just wasn't as much fun to play. He missed the outdoors. The class sizes were bigger here and the teaching methods had to be changed to accommodate. He was used to a much more one on one environment. That wasn't going to happen here. Kimble's naturally submissive posture in a new environment kept him from voicing his complaints and disappointments, both at work and at home.

He still wasn't happy about living on his own. Sure he and Angel shared some meals with Remy, but it wasn't the same communal atmosphere as before. Logan's family full of kids was further away and didn't join them like he had before. Kimble missed all the children and the camaraderie. It was too quiet at home. Too easy for him to hear those voices from within.

He also had to do things that Molly had done automatically for him back home. Kimble could now do his own shopping and pick out those things he wanted. It was a simple thing, but Kimble had never had to shop for himself. Before, food was given to him and he had made do with it, now he had to choose for himself. The stores were too big inside for him and he had a hard time deciding what he wanted. The large amount of variety only confused and frustrated him, he was overwhelmed by it all. He just didn't know what he wanted.

The credits Kimble had also meant that he didn't have to work unless he wanted to and he found himself withdrawing from the children's center, uncomfortable with the new atmosphere and way of doing things. His absence went unnoticed and no one questioned it when he just stopped showing up.

Kimble retreated to his apartment and stopped venturing out during the day unless he absolutely had to. The world out there was just too big and the apartment just felt safer. Unfortunately, he had too little to do there and now the privacy he hadn't wanted brought him the time and the space to practice his defensive skills.

Zander couldn't be more pleased. Kimble now spent hours at a time conjuring his sword and refreshing his memory on how to use it properly. He'd been well trained, but that was years ago and buried under a lot of hard times and quiet living. Those files got dusted off and put back into use.

Zander spoke to him often, his advice strong enough to keep Kimble's attention. _Use the sword, trust no one. Have your lovers, but no one stays. You remember all those times you took in someone, what happened? It all got fucked up. Stay single, stay safe. Watch over yer Angel, watch over yer Remy, yer Molly, too. That is your priority. Keep it simple, keep it safe._ Kimble only prayed that those words would stay true.

Kimble would practice and he would dream. He enacted out scenarios where he was the great warrior, using his sword to wipe out the evil plague that was Jael. Working out with sword again reminded him of his power, of his ability to do more than just babysit. It boosted his self confidence and he walked a little taller, his head a little higher.

It didn't go unnoticed. Gambit didn't know Kimble had resumed his practice with his Channeler's weapon. He thought it was the steady stream of new clients that had put the swing back in Kimble's stride. It was so much nicer to see this than the stale version of Kimble that had been hovering listlessly about the apartment all these years. He patted Kimble on the back and congratulated himself on a job well done. He'd shown everyone just how right he'd been about Kimble's ability to fit in here. He had no idea that all of that was about to blow up in his face, literally.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

Howls of rage were echoing off of the walls and Jael just sat there smiling. He was in his large throne room, seated comfortably. He'd been busy these past weeks assembling all of the angels he'd collected from Sheba's Siskans and two things had come out of that time well spent – a suit of special armor and the gun that stood on a stand before him, waiting for use.

This gun was a welcome surprise. He hadn't immediately known its purpose, but once he had tested it out on poor little Grog, well, he'd been quite happy indeed.

The gun on its shiny new stand stood at about chest height, a long silver beauty. It had rings and tiny gizmos all over it, making it look as intimidating and just as cruel as it actually was. It was aimed at an examining table where a furious and noisy Victor Creed, the infamous Sabretooth, lay strapped down and helpless -- the source of all that noise.

Once located in Afghanistan, it hadn't taken long for some of Jael's minions to pick him up. The mighty Sabretooth wasn't his former ferocious self, SHIELD had seen fit to run him through another brainwipe and it had left him somewhat diminished. He had been controlled with a special collar as SHIELD worked him, a collar that kept him from killing his handlers, but not from using his powerful senses to hunt down the terrorists they were looking for. The brainwipe had been wearing off slowly over the years, that was clear from the drugs Jael's men had also found floating around in his system when they picked him up. They were powerful anti-psychotics in doses that would kill any ordinary man...but Sabretooth was anything but normal.

"Let me go, ya fuck!" Sabretooth was howling, showing his long wicked fangs. Shakra had shot him full of poison to limit his struggle, but not enough for him to lose consciousness. Jael wanted him awake, all the better to feel every bit of the party he had planned. Sabretooth was three hundred pounds of raw animal power strapped to a table and all but helpless, his brown talons gleaming just out of reach of his bonds. He was trapped and frustrated, Jael couldn't have been more pleased.

"You didn't think I'd let you get away from me forever, did you?" Jael sneered at him, getting this started. "I never forget and I always repay."

"Then let me go an' let's fight it out like men, not this fucked up pussy crap ya got goin' here!" Creed shouted, trying to get a rise out of his tormentor. The truth be told, enough of the brainwipe still remained that he had no real clue who Jael was. That's not to say he wasn't pissed off at the shabby treatment, Sabretooth was at times more animal than man and no amount of brainwiping was going to remove his violent, hair trigger temper. He wanted this man's blood now regardless what had transpired between them in the past.

Jael just grinned, oblivious and uncaring about what Victor remembered or not. "Sorry, pet. I've got much more pressing matters to attend to. I just wanted you to see what I've got planned for this world. Pity you didn't think to stay on my side. You'll be the second to discover what happens to those who displease me."

"An' the first?"

Jael grinned, thinking of the look of startled betrayal on poor Grog's face when he'd been finished with. Grog hadn't displeased him, not really. He'd just been a convenient target, a delightful guinea pig for this grand experiment. "Dead an' dumped on the street like the trash he was."

"Poor fucker. Too bad yer little trick ain't gonna work on me! I can't be killed! Better men than you have tried an failed!" Creed challenged with another roar. He was making a lot of arrogant noise, doing his best to hide his fear. He wasone of the most powerful mutants that had ever walked the Earth. His healing factor was second to none and his tolerance for pain extraordinary. He was over a hundred years old and during that time he'd been beaten, whipped, burned and exploded and yet still lived to tell the tale. Not that he remembered all of that, but still. He didn't think Jael could actually kill him, but whatever the guy had planned probably wasn't going to be fun, that was sure.

Jael just laughed, his calm only adding to Victor's unease. "How lovely. You can send them my regards."

The Dognan man flicked his wrist and Razel moved the cannon into position. On either side stood a tiny white pilot, their bio-produced Ristle energy would be used to power the cannon. They lay their white slender hands on the power receptors and charged the weapon. Immediately the air in the room became warm and tingly, filled with a kind of static.

Jael had assembled a small crowd of his most faithful for this little show. Razel was here with Shakra and Marcus. Others sat on furs with small tables in front of them. Jael had so thoughtfully thought to provide refreshments for this exhibition of his power.

Victor was flooded with a sudden panic and he strained at his bonds once more, screaming with fury. His screams only increased in pitch as he was blasted with a bright white light energy beam from the cannon. It didn't really hurt, but his whole body thrummed with a terrible magic that was draining away his strength. Oddly, his mind was becoming clearer, the feral rage that had plagued him for years was melting away, leaving him painfully aware and lucid on the examining table.

He realized to his horror what had just happened. This cannon was the world's largest restraining collar. It had stripped away his feral rage and bestial urges, clearing his mind instantly. It was also wearing down the last of the SHIELD brain wipe, leaving him feeling naked and raw. With that purging came some thing else -- it was also depleting his healing factor, leaving him defenseless...well almost. He still had his fangs and claws and would be sure to use them at the earliest opportunity.

The gun was shut off and Jael rose from his throne, coming closer to the table to check out the results of the firing. If it was anything like how it went with Grog, Sabretooth should be weak as a kitten and no threat to him. He stood next to his prey and raised his hand, showing Victor a small shiny knife. With one quick stroke, he slashed Creed across the chest, smiling with satisfaction when the wound remained open and bleeding.

Sabretooth thrashed on the table, startled at how much that had hurt. With his healing factor, most cuts stung rather than actually hurt, they simply closed up too quickly. Not so now. The cut had been fairly deep and he clamped his teeth down on a scream, not wanting to give Jael the satisfaction.

Jael looked down on him, his eyes half lidded with pleasure. One hand toyed with the blood welling up from the cut, he was swirling the blood in a star shaped, white depression in the center of Victor's chest. "I see another scar here. One that hasn't healed. Where did you get that I wonder?"

Sabretooth squirmed, pulling on his bonds, but didn't answer. The scar on his chest was large and white now from the passage of time. Years ago, Zander had attacked him as a Channeler, skewering him with his plasma charged blade, the very one Zander had been pestering Kimble to think about using again just recently. The damage to Creed had been horrible, he'd been almost cut in half. He nearly died, but not quite. He'd survived even that, but a large star shaped scar remained where the sword had first passed through him. He never minded it much. The brainwipe from SHIELD could remove most things, but one item still remained. He would always remember those pale blue eyes that had once looked on him with such love. Kimble, The Lover, had once whispered to him a name, Kristalay. It was his now and remained with him always. That and the scar to remind him how he'd once been loved so completely.

"No matter," Jael said, not the least bit offended at being ignored. "I'll leave a scar of my own."

Jael's intentions were far more sinister than merely tormenting a man who had previously betrayed him. Days earlier, Jael had toured the inside of his new Command ship that Sheba's minions had delivered to him in exchange for their swift and unhindered escape. The vessel, named the Cloud Jumper, had been quite impressive. It was a vehicle for war and was well maintained and stocked with many powerful weapons. As he looked it over, the beginnings of a plan began to germinate in his mind. One that would begin with the man now stretched out before him.

He reached beside him to a small table and lifted a large pair of pliers. Razel left his position behind the cannon and now moved to Sabretooth's head, holding him in position for whatever Jael had in mind. Creed's thrashing increased, his eyes wide with real panic now, but he was in no position to put up a real fight. Jael laughed at his victim's plight and leaned in closer, bringing the pliers to Creed's mouth.

"Just sit still, pet. This will hurt --- a lot."

----------------------

Logan was dozing quietly in a chair when the emergency alarms went off. He was back at Westchester and at the Xavier Mansion at the moment, keeping an eye on things while Karen and Maylee were finishing up some work here. Karen and Maylee rotated back and forth between the two complexes as new refugees were showing up here at the Mansion looking for shelter against an ever increasing hostile world. As they gathered new folks, Fallen would come and bring them to Arizona for further processing and integration. Some of them needed medical attention first which was why Karen and Maylee were here.

Logan had come with them today, wanting to gather up some stuff to bring back to Arizona, his motorcycle in particular. It was the last thing he had needed to bring back with him and now while the girls were busy, he had taken the time for a quick nap. He wasn't completely off guard -- he had grown comfortable with the extra security in Arizona and was always more nervous when back here. Whenever he was back here just hanging out and waiting on Karen, he spent most of his time in the old War Room in front of the Mansion's security cameras. The chair here was a bit too comfortable and he'd nodded off for just a minute when the alarms brought his nap to a crashing halt.

Logan jerked upright in his seat, blinking at the cameras in confusion. He had no idea what could have set the alarms off. The video monitors for the front lawn were on and he could clearly see a helicopter materialize there out of nowhere and hover over the front lawn, waiting. He found his feet quickly and took off for the elevator, cursing with impatience. It would be a full three minutes before he was able to get out of the house to greet the new visitors and he wasn't even sure they would still be there.

They were. The helicopter still hovered expectantly over the front lawn, calmly waiting for someone to come up close.

Logan dashed out of the house, his hands reaching for and finding twin pistols he'd brought with him. He'd never been a big fan of guns, but there was less security here and he was a cautious man. When armed, he chose well. Heavy caliber automatic pistols, Desert Eagles, they were. Weapons with enough kickback that not everyone could even handle them like this, but he was no ordinary man. He had years of military and covert training to fall back on. In this case, he thought he had figured just about right with his use of guns, his claws wouldn't be a reliable weapon from this distance. He'd never be able to leap up there.

They saw him come, but didn't retreat. "A gift from Jael!" someone shouted from within the craft. He and another man kicked out a large bundle wrapped in a grey canvas tarp. They laughed and the helicopter rose slightly before winking out as if it never had been. Wolverine realized that they must have teleported in and teleported out. Of course it was Jael, who else would have had the means? What he didn't understand was, why had they come. Logan ran over to what had been dropped and slowed when he smelled the blood. He approached cautiously and then growled when he recognized the scent. He slowly opened the tarp.

"Fuck me..." he whispered, stunned.

His half brother, Sabretooth, lay wrapped up inside, his naked body smeared with blood and covered with injuries that didn't seem to be healing. All of his large canine teeth had been torn from his mouth and his claws ripped from his fingers. He'd been horribly beaten and savagely cut. At first, Logan wasn't sure if he was even still alive, but his sensitive hearing caught the faintest raspy wheeze as the ruined flesh in front of him took a ragged breath. Last Logan had known, Creed had been brought to a SHIELD facility for execution seven years ago and then subsequently disappeared. He hadn't been seen or heard from since. Clearly he'd run across Jael and gotten more than even his healing factor could cope with.

As if the brutalizing of his body was bad enough, a note had been attached to his chest, pinned through the skin there with a long thick rod the size of a knitting needle. The note had been carefully enclosed in clear plastic so it wouldn't be ruined by the blood of its carrier. It could be clearly read -- **_Turn whatever Siskans you have over to me or pay the price. _**It was signed by Jael and had some instructions on how he could be contacted for delivery.

Wolverine cursed under his breath. He left the note for later, he would leave it as it was and let Henry deal with its removal. Instead he felt for a pulse and was surprised when he actually found a fairly strong one. He clicked on the small radio he always wore now. "Hey, May! You around!"

"Here, Mr. Logan!" came the crackley reply from one of the lower levels of the Mansion. "What do you need?"

"We got a medical emergency. Somebody beat up Sabretooth and dumped him on the lawn. I'm gonna bring him down now. I'm lookin' at severe trauma an' bleedin'. His healin' factor ain't workin'. We gotta get this guy stable an' ship 'im out ta Arizona as soon as possible. We're gonna need Henry for this."

"I'll send up Max to help you and call for Fallen. She can be here in twenty minutes," Maylee replied, her trembling voice betraying her excitement. She was still in training and hadn't handled too many real traumas by herself. At least Max was here. Wherever she was, Max was sure to be as well. He'd tagged along with Logan today and Wolverine was grateful to have him.

"All right. I'll be right down," Logan said and clicked off.

Logan gave the tarp a mighty yank and started dragging Creed towards the house, his arch enemy was much too heavy for him to carry. He was met by Max and they lugged him down to what was left of the medical bay. May was shocked when she saw Creed's horrific condition but was too well trained to let it stop her. She went to work immediately, her nervousness no longer showing. Her half Dognan heritage labeled her as a mutant on this world and kept her out of formal schooling, but Henry had showed her many things and now that it had come down to it, all of that schooling was paying off. She was all business as she worked, getting Creed cleaned up and pumped up with fluids, preparing him for transport.

Creed groaned and called out for Kimble softly before passing out again.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Seth sat in the lab chair, his face glowing blue from the computer screen in front of him. It highlighted his distress, gel sweat was dripping off of his chin, revealing his terror. He was alone now in the lab and had shut off the lights, trying to hide what he was planning to do.

Henry had been true to his word and given him his own separate computer server for his personal use. Seth had wasted no time in installing the special hardware that would allow him to communicate directly with this system as he did the Lucky Dragon. He had put in a modem like device that would not just give him access, but allow his actual consciousness to enter as well. That was the risky business, the thing that was making him tremble so in fear.

Could he do this? Should he?

"I don't want to be so clumsy," he whispered softly. "I don't want to be so weak."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wiping his face. He knew the risk. He could enter and be trapped here forever. While he was gone, his physical body left behind would be defenseless. The payoff could be worth it, he reasoned. No more stumbling about, no more bright lights searing into his eyes. He could be as strong in this physical world as his brother was.

"I love you, Fallen. My Mistress," he whispered and clicked "Enter."

Seth gasped as the connection was made and he was sucked from his body into the system. He'd spent seven years out here in the physical world, forgetting what it was like to be in a completely digital environment. He felt the weight of his body leave him and he was like a ghost, vapor in this world of streaming numbers and bright lights. He found himself laughing with pure joy, this he had missed. Here he was free to move about and do as he wished, here he didn't stumble into things or have to think about how he should move his body to accomplish what he needed to do. Here all he had to do was think and the world opened up before him.

He closed his eyes and issued a command, "Open file Golden Gate. Execute modifications."

There was a bright searing light and streams of numbers whizzed by his now open eyes. It was blindingly fast but he saw them all, he'd written these codes after all. The stream slowed as it collected itself, and he saw something strange. He'd written these codes himself, but here now was something hidden. Every so often pairs of numbers leapt out at him, displaying themselves in no logical order. Just as fast, he began to collect them, these unexpected little pairs of numbers, seeing that there was something here he had better not let pass him by. He couldn't explain the feeling, it was just there before his eyes.

It took only a moment, but then it was done. The new codes were in place, all he had to do was upload them and his consciousness back into his own body. His return would trigger a kind of internal reboot, it wasn't until then that he would know if this had been worth it or not. He turned to go but hesitated, thinking only for a moment that it would be so simple to just stay here in this world that had once been home to him. Here, he had absolute freedom... but he would lose his Mistress forever. He would lose her touch, her love. It was enough to get him moving.

"System, return execution," he commanded and braced for impact.

There was the bright light again as the process reversed itself and he was traveling backwards and back into his own body. There was a moment's giddiness as the reboot commenced, a scream of bright white light then a small chime. "System ready."

When the reboot finished, Seth screamed silently in absolute terror within the confines of his mind. The weight of the physical world had come crashing in on him, crushing him. It was so alien now, cumbersome and smothering. He couldn't breathe. As if that wasn't enough, bright white light and booming sound crashed into him with a cataclysmic thunderous wave and he fell from his chair, this time screaming out loud.

He fell in agonizing slow motion, drawing out the suspense, and then he hit the floor with a thud, sending bright lancing pain all through him. The new codes had jacked up his senses even more, an unexpected side effect. He was seeing and hearing too much. Now he felt the impact with the floor as though he'd been thrown. He thought his body was going to break apart. What had he done to himself?

--------------

Henry walked back into the examining room, a strange dispassionate smile on his face. This was his doctor face, one that didn't always show what he was thinking, and he was thinking very hard now indeed. Gambit was here for a follow up exam on his leg and Henry wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. The bones were almost healed, knitted back nicely. The thing was, they were healing just a little too well considering the severity of the breaks. Last he knew, Remy didn't have any special healing powers so this was bit of a puzzle.

"Is Gambit gonna make it, homme?"

Beast couldn't help but smile at that whiskey and cinnamon voice. It was lined with no small amount of impatience. Remy was fidgeting already, never having been the best of patients. Medical rooms seemed to make him edgy. Or maybe it was just the skimpy hospital gowns that never seemed to cover his too long frame. His boney knees were sticking out of the bottom, showing that he'd lost a bit of weight from being on the disabled list. The scar on his calf from his surgery was razor thin and fading already, another sign of some magic at work here.

"Yes, he is. The break is almost completely healed. The brace will be no longer needed. It's quite remarkable, the progress you've made. As much as I'd like to take the credit for this, I've got a feeling this has nothing to do with me. Got something you'd like to confess?"

The Cajun sat there silently grinning but spoke not a word. Of course Remy had a few ideas, it had been on his mind as well. Just how many times had Kimble "touched" him since his leg had been broken? He couldn't quite remember, but that last one, the one with such passion and fire attached to it, well that one was ringing out loud and clear. Yes, he had hauled himself up off of Kimble's floor, but the next day, his bones were itching like mad and he'd been filled with a strange kind of vitality he'd been missing for the past few days. He was usually pretty peppy after a session with Kimble, but this last time the added energy had been that much more noticeable because that had been the first time they'd been intimate like that while he was injured.

"Mus' be de water in dis place, n'est ce pas?" Remy offered playfully, his eyes merry.

Henry snorted playfully. "Right then. Get dressed."

Gambit slid from the table with his usual grace, eager to be freed and not needing to be told twice. He had just reached for his pants when Henry's head turned suddenly and cocked as if he was listening.

"You 'ear sumpt'in?"

"Excuse me for a moment," Henry replied evasively and slipped out.

-----------------

Seth was still on the floor, shivering. He jerked with another shout as the room lights came on. He was flooded with light to the point of blindness and he held his hands out in front of him defensively, warding off a blow he was certain must be coming.

"Are you all right?" came Henry's voice thundering in his overly sensitive ears. This room was only two doors down from where the doctor had been with Gambit. Henry didn't have hearing as acute as Wolverine, but it was pretty sharp, sharp enough for him to have heard Seth shriek right before he'd hit the floor.

"H-help me!" Seth gasped, terrified that the world was threatening to cave in on him. Blackness was coming.

Big blue hands came about him and he writhed and shivered, feeling the soft blue fur as if for the first time. He was enclosed in those arms and his world became suddenly smaller, much more manageable. Henry's heartbeat thundered next to him pleasantly and he clutched at his good friend, wheezing, "Don't let me go!"

"I'm right here," Henry replied, trying to keep calm.

It did him no good, Seth could sense the distress he had caused in the doctor. Seth had never been able to feel the vibrations as Kimble and certainly never heard any voices, but he was hearing one now. It said,**_ / My dear boy, you've given me such a fright. I love you and I want to help you, but I have no clue what's going on. /_**

Seth knew intuitively that these were Henry's feelings, it was just that he was receiving them with a clarity he'd never felt before. Seth's disappointment was profound. He'd done this to improve his ability to cope in the physical world and all he'd done was spark some kind of empathy at the cost of his ability to control his sensory input. He was being swamped just as he had been the first day he'd left the system. The only thing that gave him any comfort was that those days of sensory overload had come and gone. Perhaps this spell would dissipate in time as well.

"Better now?" Henry asked as he felt Seth relax a little.

"Yes," the Siskan replied, still grasping fistfuls of blue fur. He still wanted to be held.

Henry began to pet him as though he were a child. "What happened?"

"I- I was working and I think I fell asleep," Seth lied as smoothly as he could, he didn't want anyone to know what he had done. "I've been so tired. I must've had a nightmare."

"Well, you look terrible, my friend. You should get some rest. Come on, then. I'll give you a tonic so you can sleep without dreaming."

Seth whimpered softly and Henry rose, keeping the pilot in his arms. Like Kimble, Seth weighed much less than a normal man. His body mass was much slimmer than Kimble's and it came through in his weight as well. It was nothing for the big blue doctor to lift him up and carry him into the next room. The lab was located right next door to an emergency room and there were some empty beds there. He lay Seth down and carefully covered him, being gentle. He could see that Seth was badly frightened and overly sensitive to whatever was touching him. He was also sporting a nice big bruise where he'd landed from his fall.

Henry left him briefly to grab a tonic. Henry had made sure to keep a supply of these tonics at every nurses' station and emergency room in the complex. Their two Siskans could be unpredictable at times and he never wanted to be caught without. It wasn't often that he had to sedate Seth, but the truth was, it had happened more than it did with Kimble. Seth was a tireless worker. Unlike Kimble who slept a full night, Seth only required a couple of hours or so a day. That led him astray at times, causing him to work too hard and burn out. He would get carried away and have a bit of a scare like he had today. Beast would give him a tonic and then he'd sleep deeply for a few hours, waking up fresh and not so badly frightened. Henry had no real idea what Seth had done to himself today and had no reason to suspect this was anything other than Seth just working too hard again.

Before Henry could return, Remy was there at Seth's bedside, limping slightly now without the brace, his hand still on a cane. Soft Cajun hands touched him and Seth shivered. "Hey."

"You okay, mon petite fils?" Remy questioned gently, his body speaking as well. **_/ You look terrible. You so scared an' shakin'. Gambit loves you, please don' be sick. Gambit love you too much. /_**

"Oui," Seth replied softly, using soft French to tease. Remy's vibration was powerful but somehow more reassuring than Henry's had been. It had a different flavor, he realized. Remy's flavor. It soothed him on the inside in a strange way, a pleasing way that was like getting a great big hug when he really needed it, just like now. He was calmer when he spoke again. "I was working too hard and I fell asleep. I was dreaming and fell from my chair like a total dope."

" 'Enry's gonna take care of you," Remy said, unknowingly accepting the lie. He was still a bit preoccupied with his own matters and had no reason to suspect his friend. The fact that Seth had calmed so fast was reassuring, there was nothing to fear here. This wasn't Kimble having a freakout.

"I'll be fine. Thanks for being here."

"Was already 'ere, fils. Glad for it now."

Henry returned and politely nudged Remy aside to better look at his patient. Gambit nodded and hobbled off to one side, letting Henry work with some privacy. Remy didn't think anything was wrong other than what Seth had said, this wasn't the first time he'd seen Seth crash from working too hard. Seth looked shaken sure, but he was always that way after he took a spill. Seth found pain bewildering, it always rattled him. Remy was also aware of Seth's penchant for working too hard. He thought that had more to do with Fallen keeping him so isolated than anything else. Why wouldn't Seth expand his mind? His world was a small as a thimble. Many times Remy had offered to take Seth out and Fallen had forbidden it, sheltering him in a way that Remy sometimes considered to be smothering.

Henry closed the curtain around the bed a bit and stood over his dear friend, frowning slightly. Seth's shivering had returned with Remy's departure as if something vital had been taken from him. His eyes had closed tightly and he gripped the blanket covering him. Henry realized now that this was an above average spell and he hesitated, saying softly, "Is there something you want to tell me, Seth?"

"I'm okay," Seth whispered, convincing no one. "I- I just need to sleep."

Beast just grunted and touched him lightly, indicating that he should drink.

Seth grabbed at the bottle greedily and gulped the tonic down. He was being bombarded with Henry's vibrations again and he couldn't cope with it. These were not like Remy's, they were sharper, harder in a way he couldn't explain. They hurt. **_/ I know you're lying, _**Beast was thinking. **_/ You've done something, haven't you? You're frightened half to death. How can I help you when you won't tell me what's going on?_**

"Wh-where's Fallen?" Seth gasped. His throat was burning a little from the tonic, it had a large alcohol content and soon he would be out like a light.

"She had to leave for an emergency run to Westchester. She'll be back in a few minutes." The emergency call had just come in only a minute before he had given Remy his results and Henry had already sent his nurses scurrying to secure what they would need. He didn't know who was coming, only that a mutant had come into Westchester badly damaged.

"Stay with me?" Seth whispered.

"Of course," Henry assured, taking a seat on the bed and moving close. Fallen wasn't due back for a few minutes anyway and all he had to do was wait. He might as well spend it at the side of his poor frightened companion. "Tell me why you're so frightened, Seth. Please. You're scaring me."

"I-I worked on my codes," he finally confessed. "It didn't do anything, just scared the bejeezus out of me."

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because I'm too clumsy and I'm sick of wearing these stupid glasses all the time."

Henry stroked his hair back with affection. "My dear boy. Those are the things that make you who you are. Changing yourself won't help you, not like this. I should know."

And he would. Many years ago, an overly intelligent Henry McCoy chose to experiment on himself, altering his own genetic code in an attempt to boost his intelligence. What happened instead was that he mutated himself even farther, sprouting bright blue fur and fangs. His hands were now clawed and he had a face only a mother could love. He had ruined himself as far as publishing his own work was concerned, no one would take him seriously now. He was lucky to find the Professor who got some of his work recognized indirectly. He paid for his arrogance by working in secret, helping the mutant cause.

"I'm sorry," Seth slurred, his eyes growing heavy. "Please don't tell Fallen. She'll be so mad and yell at me."

"I won't," Henry agreed. He wouldn't, but he would be sure to make a note of it in Seth's personal file. Beast kept detailed records of all of his teammates, it was required for one who needed their full medical histories in order to better treat them.

Seth had stopped trembling and was fully relaxed. The tonic dulled his senses and he was no longer drowning in sensation. He could still feel Henry's vibrations, but they gave only comfort and love now. He was safe here and could rest. He took a nice deep breath and grew still as sleep finally took him.

Henry remained at his side for a moment, but then rose to prepare for his next emergency.

"He down?" Remy asked softly, startling him. Henry had almost forgotten that Gambit was still there. The thief had been standing there quiet. He didn't think Remy had heard their private conversation but there was a strange look in those red and black eyes, like he just wanted to ask the question, only he knew Henry wasn't going to answer it.

"Yes. It would be good if you stayed with him. I've got an emergency coming in."

"Absolument," Remy replied in regards to Seth. The questioning look was gone, replaced by a curiosity of a different sort. "Anyone we know?" he asked next as Henry was given a status report on the incoming emergency by a passing nurse.

Henry's eyes had widened in surprise as he read the note. "Actually, yes. It seems our Mister Creed has returned from the dead. Someone took offense and butchered him."

"Firs' Joes in a real long line," Remy grunted unhappily, showing no surprise at Sabretooth's untimely return. Truth was, he'd seen weirder things happen. This was just another one of those curve balls of life. He didn't take it that seriously, Victor Creed had bounced back from anything ever thrown at him — unfortunately.

Beast looked up at him, recognizing Gambit's failure to see what was going on. "It seems life has finally caught up with our dear Victor. His injuries are quite serious, his healing factor can't cope with it somehow. He's dying."

" 'Scuze-moi? Since when do dyin' and Saby come in de same sentence?"

Henry looked up at him. "I'd better send someone for Kimble."

-----------------

Scott walked briskly through the Complex, growing angrier with every step. He'd been elected to go find Kimble and tell him about Sabretooth, but no one seemed to know where he was. He went to the daycare center only to learn Kimble hadn't shown up there for days. Furious, he called Remy's cell phone only to have the thief mumble something to him sheepishly that Kimble might be a little busy with two girls they had bumped into at the Marx Club when they had gone there for lunch right before Remy's appointment with Henry. Nurses they were, fresh from the outside. Remy had expected Kimble to be done with them by now, he guessed Kimble must've been having a grand time.

Scott cursed in his fury, snarling as he clicked off. Kimble should never be allowed free like this, not after all the time he'd spent in the holding cells before. Gambit had taken full advantage of the move and was letting his Siskan run around like the true slut he was. This could only lead to trouble.

Scott made his way down to the nurses' quarters. He had to stop off at an information kiosk to get the address for the two nurses and was positively steamed. Hunting down Gambit's little sex freak was something he hadn't had on his Want to Do List for today. He didn't understand why no one seemed concerned about Kimble's sudden spike in social behavior, the guy should have been put on a sex offender's list, not be given keys to the cupboard like this. He still wasn't entirely sure how it was that Kimble retained custody of Angel for this long.

Scott made his way to the address he had been given --- the two girls were roommates --- and knocked on the door.

Silly girlish giggles greeted him from the other side of the door. "No one's home!"

He heard another voice grumble in irritation, one unmistakably low and growly. Kimble's, no doubt. And it wasn't directed at him.

"Kimble! Get your butt out here! There's been an emergency!" Scott snarled in response, just wanting to get this over with.

There was some shifting and another giggle. The door opened and Scott stepped back in surprise. Kimble was naked and was holding the tiniest of towels in front of him, but that wasn't the shock. Not just one, but both girls were on the bed behind him, not even covered by the sheets. The room smelled of sex and candles.

Kimble noted Scott's discomfort and grinned arrogantly, flexing his abdominal muscles. He was in peak physical condition and quite beautiful. He knew Cyclops was a prude and that his nudity would make him uncomfortable. It was the Zander in him that made him push Scott's buttons now. He never liked the way this man had looked at him.

"So what's goin' on?"Kimble slurred drunkenly. He knew it wasn't Angel, she would have called to him telepathically.

"What do you think you're doing!" Scott hissed in his fury.

"Fuckin'. What's it look like?" Kimble snapped, his eyes half lidded and dreamy. He looked like he was stoned, but the use of drugs was outlawed in the Complex. Sex made Kimble high, but Scott didn't know that. He'd never taken the time to get to know Kimble well, despising him from the moment they'd met.

Scott Summers was a very private man, his need for control forcing him into a stony rigid personality. He didn't express a lot of emotion and he had very strong opinions, one of which was that sex was best kept private. He disliked Kimble's sexual openness from the beginning, happy only when Kimble finally suppressed that side of himself back at the Institute. Now that he was here, it seemed Kimble had wasted no time in falling back on his old promiscuous ways. Scott did not approve.

The smell of sex was stronger now that Kimble was standing in front of him and Scott flushed uncontrollably. The two women were gorgeous. "Your lover boy Creed got beaten up and dumped on the lawn at Westchester. He's a mess. Fallen's bringing him in now," he said loudly, making sure the girls heard his reference to the unconventional relationship between the two men. "Better get dressed. Henry wants you down at the Med Bay in case he doesn't make it."

"Kristalay's dead," Kimble argued, his voice lowering as an icy edge came into it. He disliked being toyed with. He'd never been informed of Creed's disappearance from SHIELD and had no idea his former Master had escaped execution. "They tooks him away. He's gone."

Cyclops was confused by the name, but the reference was unmistakable. "Well it looks like he used up another of his nine lives. He's been badly brutalized and it doesn't look good."

"Kristalay kin heal his'self."

"Not anymore. Jael did something to him."

Kimble looked back at the women, doing his best to hide his escalating concern. His former Master alive? It was more than his heart could handle. "I gots ta go."

Kerri pouted, "Can't it wait?"

"How long 'til Fallen gits here?" Kimble asked Scott.

"Ten minutes," Cyclops replied through clenched teeth.

Kimble grinned back at her, covering his anxiety. Creed was very important to him and he was worried, but didn't want to make a big deal of it in front of Scott. "Sorry, girls. I needs a bit more time than that to finish up with yous."

"It's all right," Donna said cheerfully.

"Oh, sure. He took care of you already!" Kerri complained.

"Kimble! Now!" Scott snapped, not wanting to hear anymore.

Kimble laughed and returned to the bed, grabbing his pants. He dropped the towel and stood in front of Kerri, letting her see him. He gave her a deep, passionate kiss as he dressed, then said, "I'll come back fer yous, don' you worry."

"Who's Creed?"

Kimble smiled at her sadly. "That's complicated."

"Is he your lover?"

"He wuz once, a long time ago. Didn' stop me from doin' fer yer friend, won' stop me from doin' fer you if you still wants me," he said, challenging her with his eyes.

"I'll think about it," she replied awkwardly. She was looking at him differently now, the news of his apparent bi-sexuality unsettling to her. He could see it in her shine, a low shimmer of disgust.

"Ya do that," Kimble grumbled a little irritably, shrugging her off as if it didn't matter. Fact was, Kimble was having no trouble finding lovers, especially now with such a large crew here. He was free, loose, and could care less if she didn't want him now. He'd made it clear early on that nothing was permanent with him. He would never allow anyone to fall in love with him. His indifference was a shield, to protect himself and those he might serve, killing any desire for anything lasting.

"Let's go, Kim," Scott ordered, still complaining. Kimble was taking forever to dress. "He hasn't got much time."


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

Kimble waited on the landing pad, surprisingly still considering how wrecked he was inside. He didn't understand how any of this could be possible. His precious Kristalay had been dragged off to be executed by SHIELD years ago. Kimble had taken responsibility for his actions in Kristalay's capture and grieved deeply, knowing the death of his former Master would not have happened if not for himself. He could hear the voices of his internal companions jammering to be heard but he tried desperately to tune them down. Any hysterics on his part would not help matters here.

He watched as the Lucky Dragon landed gracefully under Fallen's skilled hands and saw the Complex's advanced cloaking device reactivate, hiding the landing site from view. From a distance, it looked only as though a supply plane had landed, not a craft from another world. The hatch opened and the ramp touched down. Henry and his team moved past Kimble quickly and was there to stabilize Creed as he was offloaded.

Kimble was surprised to see a heavily armed Wolverine come down the ramp after him. Kimble still wasn't used to the sight of guns on the man, but these were precautions the ever wary Wolverine was taking now whenever he went back to Westchester. Charles hadn't argued much so long as Logan didn't wear them around the halls of the Complex itself. The guns made Kimble nervous, but he then recalled the bitter rivalry between these two brothers. Actually Kimble took this as a good sign. If Logan still considered Kristalay a security risk, maybe he wasn't that bad off.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Sabretooth was wrapped in blankets and covered with tubes for fluids and oxygen. He was still very bloody but had been bandaged as much as possible. Kimble couldn't help but whine softly when he saw what a mess had been made of his former Master, but stayed put and out of the way.

He followed them down to the Med Bay, doing his best to not be a bother. On the way in, he noticed Remy sitting at a bedside and realized that Seth was curled up there, asleep. Torn now, he came to where Remy was. "Why's m' brother here?"

" 'E was workin' too 'ard again. No biggie," Remy replied, using his cane to rise stiffly to his feet like an old man. He had been sitting awhile and his leg, though better, had stiffened up on him. He wouldn't have dreamed of being anywhere else at that moment, knowing that Kimble would now need some emotional support in response to this new crisis. The two of them made their way to the glass walled trauma bay and waited.

Kimble was fidgety and moving restlessly from one foot to the other, unable to keep still as worry creased his brow. Henry and his crew was fast at work inside, doing all they could, but they were frightfully busy. A wary and scowling Wolverine leaned against the back wall inside the Med Bay just in case Creed became violent and couldn't be controlled. He glanced at Kimble and nodded at him in greeting, but didn't come out to speak with him.

Kimble startled a little when he felt gentle arms wrap around him and smiled at Molly as she grunted at him softly. Remy had called her as soon as Scott had hung up, asking her to come down for this as well. Kimble bumped his head against hers in a gentle thanks and leaned against her, happy now that both of his good friends were here. Knowing they were so close, he felt most of his anxiety slip away. They would look after him, keep him safe.

If Kimble hadn't been so worried about his beloved former Master, he might have been more sensitive to Molly's own vibrations of worry. He thought she was concerned for him, but her anxiety was quite a bit more than that. Molly had always known that Kimble and Sabretooth had had an intimate relationship some time back. Kimble had been kidnapped by Creed to be turned over to the terrorist Jael but the two ended up bonding instead. Somehow, Kimble had fallen in love with this brutal monster and there had even been talk of Kimble's powerful empathy having a therapeutic effect on Sabretooth's killing rages. It was hard for her to believe, but then she hadn't seen it for herself. Molly first met Kimble when he had returned from that relationship, she had never actually seen the two of them together. Later, she learned that Sabretooth was in fact the Lion Man --- the one responsible for the loss of her voice, and the death of her family as well. Like Kimble, she had believed the Lion Man to be dead, now here he was. The fact that he was damaged and barely alive didn't alleviate her fears one bit.

Kimble might have been oblivious to Molly's fear, but Remy was not. This was his wife, the girl who owned his heart. Remy's hands reached for her as well, a silent understanding passing in between them. A much as he was here to keep Kimble from freaking out, he was now here for her, too.

Sabretooth began to thrash and moan, making it difficult for Henry to work. He was being most uncooperative, snarling and lashing out with his bloodied, useless hands. Henry said something to Logan and he waved Kimble in. Kimble came in cautiously and Henry directed him to stand at Creed's head. "Talk to him, try to calm him down."

Kimble stood at the head of the trauma table and lay his palms on Creed's cheeks. He leaned down over him and whispered with a sad smile, "Kristalay..." "Eh? Kim...unhhnn..." Creed wheezed and quieted.

"His arms 'n legs're broke," Kimble advised, switching to English. He could 'feel' Victor's pain.

"Yes," Henry replied, knowing that was only just the beginning of Victor's troubles. Interesting that Kimble was able to diagnose that by touch, something for discussion later. "Just keep him steady. We'll take care of him."

Kimble returned his attention to his former Master. "Still hurtin' ya bad?"

"Uhnn...felt worse. Only it didn't... ever last so long."

Kimble closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Creed's. He shivered and let go with another pulse of Kundatesh, this one more powerful than the first. He could feel the pain still there in that large body and wanted it gone. Kimble had had some time to think about that strange exchange he'd shared with Molly. He was still ashamed and feeling guilty over the matter, but Zander had whispered to him softly about how his use of power had affected her.

_You kin do things with yer feelin's,_ Zander had been saying, doing his best to boost Kimble's poor fragile ego. Kimble needed to be shored up, he was so insecure and unsteady, not the way a proper Courtesan should be. _Things without the fuckin', things just by thinkin'. Good things, Kim. You ain't always so bad._

Kimble knew there was truth in those words. The Professor had said something similar years ago when he'd eased the passing of a poor sick Clansman. Bruce had been desperately ill and on his way to dying, but was lingering, suffering. Kimble had touched him and then Bruce had died in peace. He could help with his power in a way that didn't involve that oh, so dangerous physical intimacy. He was being brave now, letting Henry's confidence in him prompt him to try it again here with his former Master who was suffering so terribly.

Victor laughed softly, drunk on the rush of endorphins now flooding his brain. It shot right down to his groin though and he was instantly hard. Henry made no comment, recognizing this as an unexpected side effect of Kimble's power, and simply rearranged the blankets, piling them up a bit in Victor's lap so it wasn't so obvious. It was the scientist in him that cataloged this interesting fact away. He had hoped Kimble might be able to do something of value here, he'd been there when Kimble had once used his empathy to ease the Clansman Bruce's suffering and assist him in dying, Henry was glad he thought to ask Kimble to help out again now. The result was better than he had expected. It was prompting more than a few questions about a certain Cajun thief's accelerated recovery, but he had no time for that now. He was happy enough that his current patient was out of shock without the use of drugs that might complicate things later. He knew Creed was going to have a long night, most of it in surgery.

"Better now?" Kimble mumbled low into Victor's ear.

"Hhmm...fergot how nice that was. Been a long time."

"What happened to ya?"

"Jael caught me up in Afghanistan...zapped me with some kinda gun. It ...it took my healin' away."

Henry's head picked up. He was still working, but he had a question, this one he would vocalize. "Excuse me, Creed? This gun takes away mutation?"

Sabretooth rolled his tawny eyes up to the doctor. The whites were so bloodshot, he looked almost evil. "It ain't Creed no more. It's Kris... Kristalay. Jus' like Kimble here said."

Henry looked at him perplexed wonder. Why should the name matter? "All right then, Kristalay. This gun? It takes away mutation?"

"You tell me, doc. It sure... looks that way ta me. Look at me... I'm a fuckin' mess."

"Yes. I see. Perhaps we'll find out if this effect is permanent or not."

"What... makes ya think... I even got that long?"

Henry froze and Kimble shuddered, tears springing to his eyes. The Siskan began to bawl, "Don'tcha says that, Kristalay! Yous only just come back!"

Kristalay shifted and looked up into Kimble's pale blue eyes. "Sorry, kid. You know I ain't... one ta sugarcoat anything. I'll tell ya this though... just since I'm too fucked up ta care...it was worth it. It was worth it just ta see ya again ... just ta feel yer power touchin' me..."

Kimble sobbed, wounded deeply all over again. "Nnooo...!"

"Shush now, quiet. You – you kept me goin', Kim. When it was all so dark...dark an' awful...I never fergot ya. Not even when they tried ta wipe ya outta m' mind. Not even when Jael was cuttin' me..."

Kimble wailed through gritted teeth, breaking inside. Kristalay had no idea what he was saying. It upheld everything Lin had been warning him about and only justified his decision not to take another permanent lover. This was all his fault, this was payback for Kristalay not turning him over to Jael years ago. This was his responsibility.

"Hey! Quit that shit!" Kristalay managed after a deep wheezing breath. "I didn't tell ya none of that ta make ya cry. I done it ta show ya...how strong ya are. You left a Mark on me... not just this big ol' scar. An' ya know what? That scar... I was proud ta wear it. To show that ya touched me."

Kimble choked back his pain and tried to clear his eyes. "Ya means that?"

"Sure enough, kid. Now you just sit there quiet...and keep on pumpin' me full of yer charm... whatever it is that yer doin'. It's better than any of Blue Boy's shit, I can tell ya that fer free."

"All right," Kimble replied, laughing softly at the joke. He relaxed and worked his Kristalay like any client, soothing his pain away and maintaining his high. He let go only when Henry nodded and moved Kristalay away for surgery.

------------------

The moment Kimble had gone into the trauma room, Remy's arms came around his wife, pulling her close into his deep embrace. He could feel her vibrations change as she watched Kimble's gentle treatment of the monster on the table. She began to shake as her vibrations tumbled into him. **_/ Kimble's in love with Lion Man,_** she was sending out without speaking a word. **_/ I've always known this, but it just didn't really mean anything until now. It's impossible. Kimble...he's so good and kind. How could he love someone like that? The Lion Man killed my momma, my sister. He's supposed to be dead!_**

"Easy, chere," Remy whispered softly, sending out a strong vibration of reassurance to calm her. "Nobody's gonna let 'im 'urt Kimble or anyone else. Dis prob'ly 'is last day nohow. Just relax."

Unlike Molly, he also knew another secret. The Lion Man was really her father. It had come out years back, but it had been decided to keep it a secret from her because she had just been too young and upset at the time to handle the news. Remy had discovered the secret, but became part of the conspiracy of silence, agreeing that it was best if she didn't know. It wasn't long after that that SHIELD had come for Creed, taking him away to be executed.

Gambit was just as surprised as his wife to see the return of this horrible man. He had learned Creed was still alive long ago but he never expected to see him again. All these years a small X-men team was on the lookout for him, but there had been no sign. Remy had actually begun to believe that maybe Sabretooth had died after all. Now all that hope had just been dashed. It meant future instability for his world. He now had to watch for both his wife and Kimble. There was no telling what was going to happen next, the vibrations of fear and anger were strong from Molly, while Kimble was vibrating a deep love for this freak, love and more fear as well. Kimble was sure to blame himself for the damage done to his former Master. If Sabretooth had turned him over to Jael as he was supposed to, this horrible mutilation would never have happened.

**_What's going to happen now? _**Molly signed, her face tense and worried.

"Good 'ol 'Enry's gonna try an' save 'im. We get lucky, de po' bastard gonna croak. Kimble gonna grieve a little, den life go on."

_**And if he lives?**_

"Den we deal wit it like we always do. Mebbe de Lion Man 'ave an unfo'tunate accident. Dere's lots of folks 'ere wantin' to see dat encule de mere dead. Not jus' you an' me."

_**Would you kill him for me...if I asked you to?**_

Remy shuddered. He was a strong man, certainly the task was well within his capabilities, especially now with Creed's healing factor gone. He had his own reasons for wanting this monster dead, his love for his wife not withstanding. They had a history that went way back. He'd seen Sabretooth slaughter dozens of innocents. That same day, Sabretooth had slashed his body open, leaving the long jagged scars he still bore today. He had watched in agony as his Kimble fell in love with this freak and the damage it had caused to Kimble's poor fragile psyche. It had taken him years to help the Siskan recover from it. The last thing he needed was this. More than that was Molly's pain. He loved her more than anything. She was his whole world and he couldn't live with her pain.

"Oui, chere," he whispered to her softly. "Gambit's no killer, but dis...dis 'e would do fo' you."

-------------

Kristalay dozed in and out as the medical team worked, answering only those questions posed to him by Kimble. Henry's team worked on him for over an hour before moving him into a nearby surgical room. Kimble was left behind, he would have to wait until his former Master came out. He paced the now empty trauma bay slowly, shuddering when he saw all the blood and debris left from all the activity. He didn't even think about it, but grabbed a broom and started to clean up the mess as if he was somehow responsible for it. Molly and Remy came in and helped him. This wasn't a regular hospital with a full staff and their help would be appreciated. Mostly, Kimble needed something to do while he waited.

Remy worked alongside him as best he could, being handicapped as he was. He would keep glancing up at Kimble, worried. He just knew Kimble would take this personally. He would believe it was his fault Kristalay got injured. If Kristalay hadn't held onto him like he had, this wouldn't have happened. Kimble was very sensitive and prone to guilt and self loathing. He'd been much better since Angel came along, but it still happened now and again. He and Molly would have to keep an eye on their wayward pilot and make sure he didn't get too carried away.

Logan was still there, too. He ignored the others, but stood at the door of the surgical room to look in through the glass window. He was still in a numb kind of shock. The idea that someone could wave a gun around and take his mutant abilities away was horrifying to him. Might not be so bad for someone like Rogue who suffered constantly, but he wasn't about to let Jael turn that device on him. Creed wasn't his favorite person, but he would have to be avenged and the menace removed. He looked at his watch and turned to Remy. "I'm gonna head back. Karen an' May're still at the house. I don't wanna leave 'em alone."

"P'etetre, you guys should just stay 'ere, non?"

"There's still too much stuff there ta leave unprotected, too many folks still needin' help. Don' worry, soon as things slow down, we'll be outta there," Logan promised and gave Molly a quick kiss before walking out. He'd sensed her disquiet and wanted to show her some support.

Remy watched him go and as he worked, let his thoughts ramble. Kimble was on his mind as always and he was concerned at how Kimble might react to his former Master coming back. Kimble certainly was preoccupied at the moment, he wasn't being very organized about how he was cleaning up, he kept missing things, and Gambit figured cleaning was the last thing Kimble was concentrating on.

Remy hoped it was clients, clients appealing enough to keep him from renewing his relationship with Creed as a bitter substitute for his own withdrawal of favors. It hadn't been a healthy relationship and Kimble was just weak enough right now to fall back into it. With more desire than ever, Gambit released a silent prayer for Sabretooth's quick demise.

--------------------

Hours later, Henry stood over Creed's bed, checking his IVs and charts. The surgery to put this man back together again had been long and complicated. The internal injuries had been severe, twice Henry had lost Creed on the table, both times he'd been able to bring him back. Henry was a skilled physician, but truth be told, he was an emergency surgeon only, a veritable M.A.S.H. hack. He could sew and repair with skill, yet there were limits to his ability, he was no specialist. He'd called in a favor to an old friend for Remy's leg pins, he didn't do that delicate procedure himself though he had stood by and watched with fascination. He might have to call in some more favors here depending on how well Creed could hold it together.

Even without his healing factor, Creed's drive to survive was formidable. All of his limbs were broken in one way or another, his chest and belly were now crisscrossed with sutures, marring the edges of the scar Zander had given him. Henry had to put in twice the usual amount of stitches to stop all the bleeding, Creed's blood simply would not clot. It would be a long time before Victor would be up on his feet to stalk the innocent again.

Beast raised an eyebrow when he heard Logan come in. Fallen had brought Logan and his people back just a few minutes ago and Wolverine had wasted no time in getting down her for an update. Henry smiled at him, his eyes tired from the surgery. "Yes, Logan?"

"How's he doin'?"

"He's alive, for now."

"Did you read the note?"

"Of course. I sent it up to Charles."

"He say what he's going to do about it?"

"I believe his response was, 'Anything Jael is willing to kill for is something we should be willing to die to protect'. Or something to that effect. He doesn't want Kimble to know about it of course, for the obvious reasons."

Logan shook his head. Not in disagreement, he was just disgusted with the whole thing. The Game had only just begun it seemed, and it was already getting out of hand. "So Jael did this just to get our attention?"

"Oh, more than just that," Henry replied, a tired resignation in his voice. "He did it to track us."

Wolverine looked up at him. "Come again?"

"I removed three separate tracking devices from the wreckage that was once this man's guts. Jael knew we would take him in and now we can only assume he knows our exact location."

"Cripes!" Logan cursed. "We're gonna hafta get ready for him. Probably won't be long."

"Indeed. Good thing I just stocked up my infirmary. We will probably have to limit who comes in from the outside now, too. That will be a shame. We are supposed to be helping people, not turning them away."

Wolverine grunted in agreement but then asked, "What's up with Seth, why is he down here?"

"He was working too hard again," Henry replied, falling back on an excuse Logan had heard before. He would keep Seth's secret for now. "I gave him something to sleep. He should be up soon."

Logan grunted and shifted weight, his fists clenching. The news he'd gotten from Henry had him worried. This was impossible. They were facing a war on two fronts, the pissed off humans and Jael. This Complex was a marvel, but it was no fortress. Wolverine had serious doubts it could withstand a full on assault. The best he could hope for was that Jael would take his time to scope out the place, giving him time to build up and add to its defenses. Just because Jael knew where they were, didn't mean he'd come in immediately, all of his attempts to take Kimble at the Mansion had ended in embarrassment. This place was stronger than that. Jael would have to consolidate and that would take time. Time they needed to utilize as best they could.

They would have to be watchful for the inevitable spies coming in with the refugees, that was most likely Jael's next move. It was a real shame, too. Logan knew as well as anyone that things were really heating up outside for mutants, he knew there were folks out there who needed help. Thing was, it was every man for himself to a point. They had to protect the ones they knew against the ones they didn't. More security measures would have to be put into place.

"Creed won't wake up for a while," Henry said, motioning to the bed. "Go get some rest, I'll call you when he wakes."

"Thanks."

Henry watched as Logan left, happy now for some peace and quiet. He was exhausted himself after so long a surgery but would stay up awhile longer in case he was needed. He set Creed's charts down and left the room. He smiled as he saw Seth sitting up on his bed, rubbing his eyes. "Good morning," Henry teased, it was actually well after midnight. Not that you could tell with no windows in this place.

Seth looked up at him with a smile, but Henry noted that his arms were still shaking and his eyes were squinting against the light. He came closer and handed Seth his glasses. "Fallen was here. I told her I would call her when you woke up."

"I'm good. I'll just go home. It's not so far."

"You're still shaking."

"I'm okay, really."

"I want to run some tests."

Seth turned to him, worried. "I'm good. I - I just need some time to adjust."

"Tests first. Adjusting later."

"Okay. Just ...just don't tell Fallen what I did. She worries enough about me as it is."

"And why is that? You've never been sick."

"She's afraid I'm gonna break like Kimble did. She doesn't say it, I just can tell," Seth admitted without going into details. He had never told anyone besides Remy that he could feel the vibrations. It was limited, or it had been before this and he didn't think it was a big enough deal to spread around. Remy was good to his word and kept the confidence, Seth's secrets were safe.

Henry grunted in surprise. Funny how the thought of Seth's psyche splintering as Kimble's had had never occurred to him. Seth had always seemed stable and right on track. He never took fits like Kimble did or seemed to brood and hide away. Henry lay a hand on his shoulder. "And how do you feel?"

"I'm okay. I don't hear voices or anything."

"And now?"

"I feel better. I needed the nap. It's not so bright and loud."

That was true, but he did still feel Henry's vibrations of worry with a clarity he did not want. At least Henry wasn't as frightened as he'd been when he first found him. Now there was a gentle curiosity and concern for his well being. He would do the tests and Henry wouldn't worry any more. He wouldn't have to feel those vibrations of concern.

"Good. I'll just bring some of the equipment around and do a quick scan. If it's okay, I'll let you go home."

Seth nodded and was patient as Henry got the machines and ran his scans. As far as they could tell, Seth was exactly the same as he'd been the last time Henry scanned him. Henry wasn't stupid, he knew that all that meant was that Seth was the same chemically, it wouldn't check for codes, no one knew those except for Seth himself. Still he had no real reason to keep Seth here. He patted him on the head and let him go.

Seth made his way home quickly. He knew Fallen was probably going to be upset, he just wasn't sure how badly. She knew he had these spells where he needed to be put to sleep. It happened regularly enough that he hoped she wouldn't be mad about it this time. He found their apartment and quietly slipped inside. "Fallen?"

She heard him and came out from the bedroom, her eyes heavy with sleep. "Hey. You okay?"

Seth was instantly relieved. She wasn't upset at all. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, moving over to her quickly to pull her into his arms.

It was a mistake. As soon as she was there he was bombarded with her vibrations. **_/ Thank God. I was so worried,_** she was thinking, after all. **_/ Why does he do this to me? Make me worry! Of course he had to do it while I was gone so it frightened me even worse! Sometimes he's worse than a child!_**

Seth stiffened a little and pulled back, unable to hide the fact that he felt that.

"What?" she asked, reaching out to brush his face.

"Nothing," he answered with a frown. "I'm a little hungry. Any soup left?" he asked, just needing the excuse to move away.

"Yes. I'll warm it up for you."

They moved to the kitchen and she warmed his soup, humming a soft little tune. Seth sat at the table, trying not to cry. He wasn't a child and resented the fact that she thought him one. Sure he had troubles, but that was why he had worked on his codes in the first place. He was tempted to tell her what he had done, perhaps it might change her attitude, but then he remained silent. The changes hadn't worked. Nothing had changed, not really. It wasn't worth mentioning. She set the bowl down in front of him and kissed him. "Do you want me to stay up with you?"

"No, I'm fine. Go rest," he said, just wanting her gone. He really did desire her company, but didn't want any more painful vibrations. He didn't want to know her thoughts.

"Good night, then. Don't stay up too late."

"I won't," He smiled at her and she left, going back to bed.

As soon as she was gone, Seth bowed his head and let the first tears fall. He didn't want this. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be stronger now, better. Now all he was, was worse. How could Kimble stand it? Knowing all these thoughts from people, the ones where they did one thing but felt another? The answer to that was obvious. Kimble wasn't coping with it, that was why he was going nuts. Now it was probably going to happen to him, too. What had he done?

_I have to talk to Remy_, he thought._ He'll help me._

_He has his hands full with Kimble, he doesn't need this, too._

Seth wiped at his face and reached out to the pair of black cubes on the table. Fallen had given them a charge before she left and they were full of Ristle energy. Her power seeped into him, making him feel warm and much happier. _All this will pass. It didn't happen,_ he told himself. _I am stronger than this, I am not a child._

He ate his soup and cleaned his dishes, ever dutiful. Truth was he was around more than Fallen was and did the bulk of the chores, taking care of them both. He had cooked this soup as he did most of their meals, a fine recipe that Kimble had given him. They were strict vegetarians, Fallen would eat no meat, but he didn't mind. He was Siskan and everything tasted good to him. If he wanted meat, he would nibble from Remy's plate if he had a chance. Gambit was always moawing down on some sort of spicy cooked up hunk of meat. _Protein,_ Remy would say. _Does a body good, hein?_

Seth wiped his hands and then made his way to the bedroom. He wasn't really sleepy after that nice big nap, but he didn't want to be alone any more either. He slid into bed, wrapping his body around his Mistress, careful not to wake her. She shifted, laughing softly and curled into his arms, blasting him with a vibration of love so powerful, it almost took his breath away. _Now this wasn't so bad_, he thought now, tears fresh again, this time from pure joy. "I love you, Fallen," he whispered happily.

"Love you, too," she mumbled and brought his hand to her lips for a kiss.

He relaxed against her and let her sleep. He was content now just to hold her and drink up these lovely thoughts of hers. She was aroused by his body next to hers, but was just too tired to do anything about it. Perhaps when she woke later. He smiled to himself. He could wait. It was enough just to have her close and smell her hair. It wasn't long before he drifted off himself, his belly full of soup and his mind blessedly free from fear. Nothing had happened, nothing at all.


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

Kristalay groaned and opened his eyes. He was bathed in a pleasant kind of fog, comfortably numb as it were. He turned his head and saw Kimble asleep, curled up awkwardly in a chair next to the bed. He looked so small and fragile there, balled up under a blanket, a soft frown ruining the lines of his face as he slept.

Kristalay wanted to say something to wake his friend, but his throat was so dry he couldn't make a sound. He was relieved when Kimble suddenly stirred as if knowing he had awakened and turned to smile at him. At the sight of those pale blue eyes and soft gentle smile, Kristalay felt a surge of love so powerful it almost took his breath away. It had been so long since he'd seen Kimble and he'd suffered so much.

How long had it been since he'd seen the pilot last, before he was taken away by SHIELD and put back into service for the good of mankind? Kristalay was no longer sure. Time was fuzzy to him, it always was since Weapon X had destroyed his memory and then restored it. It tended to make things liquid and unreachable, like a greased pig slipping out of his grasp. He didn't remember much of what had happened after Jael had begun to torture him either and didn't want to. It was best forgotten and buried with the rest of the unmentionables of his life.

He did recall with clarity the moment Kimble's hands had touched him again and the joy his body had felt when the Kundatesh had poured into him. That had been so sweet. After that was black, except for the recurrence of a very strange dream he'd been having. When Zander had stabbed him all those years ago, he'd actually died and went up to the light. He met someone on the way, a woman who'd claimed to be his mother. She offered him a choice -- death or a chance for glory, for a moment of great power. The vision she had showed him was vague, but somehow there had been lions, great roaring lions. He was one of them, all powerful and magical, for once a force for good, for doing something very right. It suckered him in and he chose that destiny. The woman was pleased, she called him Kristalay as Kimble had done, making him cement his decision to take that name forever more and be Sabretooth no longer. This great destiny he'd been promised hadn't happened yet, but sometimes he still dreamed about it in small snippets, just enough to make him wake with a driving sense of purpose. He'd had that dream again, heard the roaring of lions, and refused to be denied. It kept him alive and here he was, horribly broken but still very much alive.

Kimble stretched and rose, rubbing his eyes. He lightly brushed Kristalay's cheek, 'feeling' him. Without being asked, he took a cup of water from the night stand and brought it to his former Master's lips, tipping the straw into his mouth. His touch had told him everything he needed to know.

Kristalay drank gratefully, and felt much better. "Hey, kid," he rasped, his voice still strained. He'd screamed the whole time he'd been tortured, first with rage then with real agony when his body would not heal.

"Kristalay," Kimble said, using his pet name for his former Master. Kimble had chosen it because he had despised the code name Sabretooth had chosen for himself. Creed had never questioned Kimble's name for him and rather liked the sound of it, especially since Kimble always said it with such affection.

Kimble smiled down at him, his eyes still tired. "How ya feelin'?"

"Not too bad now. Prob'ly don't wanna know what yer blue fur pumped inta me. Sure is nice."

"Henry says yer gonna be fine. Just gonna take some time, is all."

Kristalay was covered almost head to toe in plaster casts. Both his legs and arms had been broken and he'd suffered severe internal injuries. The tips of his fingers had been cut off with a knife, removing his notorious claws and his canines were gone as well. If his regenerative capabilities never returned, he would have some nerve damage and more than a few surgeries in his future. It was a testament to his will to survive that he was even still alive. Jael clearly hadn't expected him to walk away from this intact.

Kimble sat carefully on the edge of the bed, wanting to be close without hurting him. "I thought you wuz dead. You know, when they tooks you away."

"They tried. Everyone keeps tryin', but there's always someone else out there figurin' I'm better off workin' fer them than bein' fried."

"Where ya been?"

Kristalay just shook his shaggy head. "You don't want to know an' I ain't in the mood ta talk about it."

"I'm sorry," Kimble said, taking the blame as always.

"Dontcha be takin' this personal, kid. I know how ya are. If you start mopin' around on account of me, I'm gonna kick yer lily white ass all over this place," Kristalay growled, seeing the sadness in Kimble's eyes.

"Promises, promises," Kimble joked softly, knowing he didn't really mean it. "I loves you," he said next, leaning in real close so only Kristalay heard it. There was a nurse not too far away.

"I know ya do. Why don'tcha go on and get some real rest. I ain't goin' nowhere."

Kimble moved a bit closer. His hands brushed Kristalay's cheeks and stayed there long enough to send another delicious bolt of Kundatesh right through him. The big man groaned and shivered, he couldn't help it. The power slid right through him, melting the pain away with its heat.

"Uhnnn... Heh, thanks," Kristalay slurred, his eyes growing heavy again.

"I'll come back. I won' leaves ya alone fer too long."

Kimble gently kissed Kristalay's forehead and brushed his hair back before rising. He was shaking slightly, terribly conflicted inside. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about his former Master's return. Was Kristalay back here to claim him? Would he even go if Kristalay asked it of him? He honestly didn't know. Part of him was eager for the surrender of control. Another part of him, the Zander part no doubt, wanted only to rebel. His time with Kristalay hadn't been entirely pleasant, especially towards the end. He didn't know if he could go back to that again, especially now with Angel in his care. He didn't want her to see him beaten or worse -- raped. It was no place for a child. At least Kristalay wasn't pushing any issues, the word Master hadn't passed his lips. Perhaps it was something they would discuss later.

Kimble stood to go, but paused when he saw Scott standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and a look of disgust on his face. Kimble knew what he was thinking. It was bad enough that these two had some kind of homosexual relationship no one could fathom, but Creed was one of the X-men's worst enemies. It was like being a traitor all over again. Kimble kept his head low, being on the short end of the status roster here, and left without speaking.

Kristalay grinned his new toothless smile at the man. "Hey, One-Eye, what's up?"

Cyclops entered the room and took Kimble's spot in the vacated chair. He was nervous being so close to this murderer, but Sabretooth was in no condition to do harm to anyone. His legs were up in traction and he could hardly move. Word was, his enhanced senses were gone along with his healing factor. So easy it would be now to just raise his visor and blow this sick fuck away. He deserved no less.

"How are you feeling?" Scott asked, beginning.

Kristalay just grunted a growly laugh. "Think we both know I've been better."

"Henry's done a fine job on you. You're lucky to be alive."

"You have a mind to change that?"

Scott just shook his head. He was no murderer, he was an X-man, something he took very seriously. "Just reminding you of what's been done on your behalf."

" 'S that a warnin' not a kill the natives? I ain't up to it just yet, kid. But thanks fer thinkin' of me," Kristalay snorted. He was in no mood to play games here.

"Here's the deal, Creed ---- "

"Name's Kristalay," the ruined man interrupted, his gruffness so much like Wolverine's it made Cyclops pause naturally though he had nothing to fear.

"Whatever. We would turn you over to SHIELD, as you know, but we can't risk compromising this place. They don't know where we are and for now we'd like to keep it that way. That and we can't have Jael pick you up again. We're still not sure how he found you in the first place."

"Guy's got a hand in everything. Had spooks on the same team as me, I figure. You X-boy's 're gonna have yer hands full with him."

"The plan for now is to keep you here until you're better, then we'll move you into a more secure location, probably down in security. Got some holding cells down there."

"All right," Kristalay said, not wanting to argue. He knew he was getting off easy for now. He had no real say in the matter of what they were to do with him, not in his present condition.

"You're co-operation in this will be appreciated."

"I ain't gonna fight ya, boy."

"I hope you remember that. See, all of this, all of what's happening right now changes everything. People are being forced to chose sides. You could say you're being given a sort of second chance. You might want to make the most of your time here."

Kristalay cocked his head with a soft grunt of surprise. This he had not expected. A patch job and some food, yes. But sanctuary? Mercy? What was this? "I'll keep that in mind," Kristalay replied, not wanting to sound too eager. He had no real place to go where he wouldn't be found, this was as good a place to be as any.

"You do that," Scott said, rising for the door. "Oh, and Creed? Stay away from Kimble. He's not yours anymore."

Kristalay squinted, his mouth baring teeth he no longer had. "Don't rightly think that's up to you. He was in here waitin' on me, I didn't ask him to come."

"He won't be here again. He belongs to Remy now, not you. He won't be allowed back," Scott asserted firmly and left, shutting the door with a decisive click.

Kristalay closed his eyes and swallowed the growl that had threatened to rise. Kimble. He hadn't thought about the pilot's disposition or who might be looking after him. Of course it would be the Cajun, Kimble had told him once long ago that he was the one he wanted. Kristalay had let him go, what choice did he have, really? SHIELD was taking him away to be executed. All he had cared about at that point was that Kimble would be looked after. Seemed like Remy was doing a good enough job, Kimble appeared to be happy enough. Well, the usual guilt was there but Kimble had always been that way, taking the blame for things. Remy would set that to rights, no doubt.

It would be nice to have Kimble as his again, that had been one of the happiest times of his life, but he knew better. He was in no condition to play Master again, nor did he think it would be allowed. Did the pilot still speak in different voices? He hadn't the whole time he'd been here. There was some lingering fear of Zander, Kristalay would never forget that sword for as long as he lived. It had burned like nothing else, like the fire of Hell itself come to claim him. It almost had. If Zander had a say in things, Kimble would no doubt stay as he was.

Kristalay had been gone a long time. He had no idea that Kimble had been repaired by the Games Master or had any knowledge of Kimble's life since he'd been taken away. It was a relief to see the pilot well and he would not disturb that, he promised himself. He'd be patient, take his due as it came and live one day at a time. If he was offered a chance for something more, he'd take it. Kristalay closed his eyes, and sighed, feeling the deep bruising of his insides. He was wrecked and couldn't fight any of this so he just chose not to. He took another pained sigh and relaxed, letting sleep claim him once more.

---------------------------------

Kimble dumped out the warm laundry onto the folding table and sorted out the clothes into small piles. He was blessed that Remy had thoughtfully seen to it that his bathroom also had a washer and dryer. He wouldn't have to go out to do this. He worked quickly, but his mind was somewhere else. Angel sat on the table, her dangling legs swinging gently as she hummed a soft tune. She kept glancing up at her father, but he didn't seem to notice her.

"Sumpthin' on yer mind, baby doll?" he asked, startling her. She hadn't realized he was aware of her curiosity.

"Who's Creed?"

Kimble hadn't realized word of his former Master had spread that quickly. He simply shrugged and replied, "He's a guy I knows from a while back."

"Why does everybody hate him?"

" 'Cuz he useta hurt people sometimes."

"How did he hurt people?"

Kimble paused, his eyes down. "In really bad ways."

"Does he still hurt people?"

"Not as much I guess. He ain't so angry now." He went back to his vigorous folding, moving through the task quickly and making neat little piles.

"Why?"

"Sometimes when I'm with someone...you know...real close, I kin takes their pain. He had a lot a pain and I could shuts most of it off. When I done that, he just didn't feel like hurtin' people no more."

"Like that guy Grendel."

Kimble looked back at her in surprise. He had no idea she knew that much about him. "What?"

"When you came back from seeing him, you always had big marks on you. You were trying to help him, weren't you?"

Kimble shrugged, trying to act more casual than he felt. He knew Angel was telepathic, that she could pick up things from him, and he took this as a sign to be more careful. He let slip a tiny lie. "Oh, that. Yeah, I wuz helpin' him, I guess, to not be so angry. He didn't means ta hurt me that much, but it wuz okay cuz I knew he wuz gonna do that. He don' mean it out 'a anger or nuthin'. He just plays kinda rough."

"Jessie says big people don't play like that. That they're too big to play like us kids."

"Some of us still do, kiddo. Some of us're big kids what ain't never gonna grow up. I don' ever wanna stop playin' and I hopes you never do either. Folks gots ta have fun or theys just gonna go crazy."

"You gonna go see him in the hospital? This Creed guy?"

"His name's Kristalay now and yeah, I'll go gives him some supper, sits with him awhile." Kimble had only just left his former Master, he didn't yet know his movements would be restricted. He was still forming his plans for the night. "Yer gonna stay with Jessie just for a little bit. Remy's got sumpthin' ta do tonight. Is that okay with you?"

"Can I see him?"

"Who? Kristalay?"

"Yeah. I want to see what he's like."

"I don' think so kiddo. He's real sick. Maybe when he gits better."

"Why are you scared?"

Kimble put the folded clothes back in the basket. "What makes ya think I'm scared?"

"I can feel it. Is he gonna hurt me?"

He looked back at her and gestured for her to scootch closer. He wrapped her up in his big arms and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Ain't nobody gonna ever hurtcha, baby doll. Not if I gots anathin' ta say about it."

Angel relaxed in his embrace but couldn't deny the vibration of concern he was giving off. She never understood why it was that big people didn't always say what they were feeling. Kimble was mostly honest with her, knowing she could read him so well anyway, but this time he was holding back. Something about Creed made him nervous.

What he wasn't telling her of course was his indecision about his former Master. The more he'd thought about it, the more he didn't want to go back. Zander was humming inside, telling him he deserved better, and Zander was winning. Kimble'd had it pretty good these past years. All the violence done to him was of his own choosing, it didn't come out of nowhere as it had been when Kristalay had handled him. He was surrounded by those who loved him, Kristalay was no good substitute for Remy and Molly, and of course his Angel. His fear was from wondering what Kristalay's reaction might be if he was refused. Would there be a fight? Would Kristalay even ask for him at all? Kimble didn't like confrontations of any sort and he was nervous.

Angel sat back. "Can that bad man Jael reach us here?"

Kimble wasn't expecting that, but then again, he'd just promised her her safety. "I don't think so," he lied for her benefit. "This place is really secure. Gots all kinda shields and evrathin'. It's even better than where we wuz livin' b'fore."

"Can we watch a movie before you go see Kristalay?"

Kimble smiled, always amused by her ability to change subjects so quickly. At least her curiosity about their safety seemed satisfied. "Shure."

They finished up the laundry and had a quick bite to eat before putting in a taped movie to watch. It wasn't a long one, Kimble didn't want to be too late at seeing Kristalay again. After that, he packed a quick bag for Angel and they headed to Logan's. Kimble knocked on the door and Karen let them in, happy to see Angel as always.

Wolverine was sitting at the dinner table, chewing on an unlit cigar. Logan never smoked around his kids but that didn't mean he didn't have plenty of these around. "Come have a seat, Kim," he said, pulling the chair out next to him.

Kimble watched as Angel ran off to play with Jessie and took the seat nervously. "I ain't gots much time, I gots ta go see Kristalay," he said, wanting only to flee. Logan never had many nice things to say to him, he didn't expect this time to be any different.

"You got plenty of time, buddy. Word just came down, you ain't gonna be allowed to see him."

Mixed emotions crossed Kimble's face, indignation won. "Sez who? I gots a right!"

"Creed's a security risk and a liability. There's a concern he might cause some trouble fer you, bein' yer former Master and all."

"He ain't said nuthin ta me 'bout that."

"That's good, I'm glad fer it. You got enough ta worry about without addin' Victor to yer list."

"Why cain't I sees him?"

Wolverine scowled impatiently. "Thought I just explained all that."

"Wuz this yer idea?"

Logan paused. "Some of it, yeah. But Scott had more of a hand in it than me. Saby's gonna be under constant watch, fer him and fer others trying' ta get in. Everyone stays out, not just you."

Kimble simmered quietly, his thoughts turning inward._ I gots a right!_

_If ya wants ta see him that badly, just bust in,_ Zander said, his disgust for their former Master obvious. _I'd be happy to put our little pig sticker back in his guts. Wouldn't be no problem, really_.

_Leaves him alone! _Kimble shouted inside, a flicker of rage crossing his face.

Logan saw it without knowing the why. He didn't much care. His concern was keeping the Siskan in line. "Just think on this a bit, kid. You don't want no trouble. Not here, not now."

Kimble looked up at him and stood, his face still hard. "You still keepin' Angel fer me?"

"Only if you promise ta stay away from Creed."

"Shure. This ain't nuthin a good fuck and a beer won't cure!" he snapped angrily and jerked away, moving to the door, his fists clenched and his shoulders tight.

Wolverine rose behind him, his face turning ugly. "I can just as easily put you in a cell, you don't simmer down."

"You'd like that, wouldn't ya? Yer all champin' at the bit an' everathin'!" Kimble snapped with all the angry resentment of a teenaged child, giving vent to his frustration. It wasn't fair how all these people kept making decisions about him behind his back.

"Just give me an excuse, boy. Just one!" Wolverine blurted out without thinking. It was shocking how fast Kimble could get a rise out of him, it had always been this way. He hadn't intended for this to get ugly, it's just that Kimble's childish attitude was too much.

"Boys!" Karen said, moving in between them. "Kimble, go. Do what you need to do and come back. Just stay away from Creed, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kimble replied with a lower voice, always polite to her. He said nothing more and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

Logan turned from his wife, his lips tight with fury, and reached for the phone. She started to speak but he shushed her with 'the look', the one that said 'Don't bother, I ain't gonna listen'. He spoke softly into the phone, setting up a small team of escorts, just to make sure Kimble stayed where he should. Any attempt to go to Med Bay and Kimble was to be picked up. He hung up and sat back at the table, chewing on the cigar again in stewing agitation.

Karen came to him and started rubbing his shoulders. "You worry too much," she whispered, coming down low to him. "Kimble will be fine."

"That boy ain't been fine since day one."

"He's not like you."

"He don't hafta be."

"Not with you looking out for him. Let him go. Relax."

"Kinda hard to, knowin' that freak is out there doin' God knows what. That boy's got trouble written all over him. Somebody's gonna get hurt somewhere, mark my words."

"Kimble won't hurt anyone, he's a masochist, remember? He takes it all on himself," Karen said, doing her best to defend Kimble. It wasn't always easy, he simply had too many issues.

Logan snorted. "Masochist? Oh, an' that's okay? He should be locked up. Heh, funny. Here Remy complains that Kimble gets treated different from everybody else. It's true, but not the way he thinks. If Kimble was a regular human, he would've been locked up a long time ago. Drugged up, whatever it took."

"Henry has tried to medicate him, nothing works. His body is too different."

"All the more reason to coop him up. He got away with his shit at the Mansion because he was kept outta the way of most people, now Remy's got him loose all over. Kimble shouldn't be around too many people. It's gonna be trouble. The kid can't handle it."

Karen's hands kneaded a bit harder. "Just let it go. There's nothing you can do about it now. Relax."

"I am relaxed," he replied, actually doing that. Her hands were working through his rage. He had nothing to be upset about really. If there was any trouble, the team would call in.

Karen said nothing more, she just let her hands do all the talking. She kneaded hard, tight muscles until they were loose and he was still and quiet. The cigar had been dropped into an ashtray and his head was low, his eyes closed, and a half smile on his lips. This could have been a lot worse, he knew. They had a good marriage, but it hadn't always been easy. Cursed with a whipcrack temper, he wasn't an easy person to live with. His 'my way or the highway' and uncompromising attitudes didn't make for a smooth ride. They'd had their share of fights, some of them loud and filled with harsh and bitter words, and he knew that they were in no small part his fault. Today, Karen had chosen to let things lie, to give in to his dominance and not argue as vigorously as she could have. No, she was working around his temper and soothing it away instead with her kind and gentle hands.

Gently now she raised his head and tipped it back for a kiss. He didn't fight her, just opened up and let her have her way. The kiss deepened and the scent of her arousal and desire to play drifted down on him, making him warm.

"The kids will be busy for a while," she whispered suggestively.

"Kids are curious," he replied, always uneasy about indulging when the kids were awake and running around.

She simply laughed at him and pulled him to his feet, dragging him to the bathroom and locking the door behind her. Quick hands began fumbling with too many layers of clothing, soft grunts in complaint. Like Remy, Logan tended to dress in layers. Probably to frustrate her, Karen reasoned. The man himself wasn't exactly co-operating, he was chuckling a low throaty growl in amusement as she attempted to strip him down. She gave up and simply yanked his jeans down to his knees, stooping down to take him in, her attention stopping that growl and turning it into something else.

"God, Karen..." he gasped in a throaty cry of shock and happiness, a response to the sudden blast of heat and wetness. The animal lust in him surged, blocking out everything else. The tension in him was forgotten, blasted away from this, from her. Her hands slid up his belly, sliding through the dark, dense body hair that covered it up to his chest. He took that hand in one of his own, the other burying itself in her hair, encouraging her to continue. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back in surrender.

They hadn't been at it long when there came a soft voice from behind the locked door. Four year old Leslie, god bless her. "Daddy, what you doin'? Yer breathin' funny. Is Mommy in there with you?"

"Daddy's fine," he mumbled dreamily, feeling Karen quiver slightly around him as she laughed. "We'll be out in a minute, darlin'."

"I want juice."

Logan shuddered as Karen did not relent. She wasn't going to let him waver. He was so close now. "Ask Angel, pum'kin. She's big enough."

Soft mumble of agreement and her feet padded quietly away.

Wolverine relaxed, happy they were once more alone. Karen was still busy, intent on her goal and he considered himself blessed to have such a young wife. With all of the tensions around him, he sometimes forgot how nice it was to have her around. In spite of their tendency to argue, she was always eager for him, always seeming to know just what he needed. She had never lost her love for him. He shuddered and let go, feeling the release rock right through him, bleeding all of that tension right out of his body.

"Feel better?" Karen asked after a moment, already knowing the answer.

He pulled her up for a kiss, laying her against him. "Much."

"Good. No more grumpies."

"No more grumpies," he repeated, playing a private ritual game they had made between them. "What about you?" He could smell her arousal, sharp in his nose and reviving his own.

"Later. When the kids go to bed."

"M'kay."

His thick callused fingers began to restore his disheveled clothing to order. Karen kissed him briefly and left him to it, going out to look after the kids. He lingered, taking stock of the day's situation. He never should have allowed Kimble to fire him up so quickly, he was getting too tense. He had to be stronger than that. Maybe he needed more exercise. This new job had cut back in his time for working out. Time to adjust that.

He turned to the sink and glanced in the mirror, scowling when he caught a tiny glint of silver streaked through the dark black of his hair. _When had that happened? _

_Two kids ago,_ came the soft reply from within. _Old man._

"Cripes..." he muttered to himself and splashed water on his face. Being over a hundred years old took a lot out of a man, but why did it have to show? Not quite fair. He disliked anything that resembled weakness.

_Like a quick loss of temper._

"I'm gonna have a beer and relax," he grumbled, trying to calm that nagging voice that had been in his head just a little too much lately. He would pretend that there was nothing usual going on, that his half brother wasn't ripped to shreds in a room only six doors down. That Kimble wasn't loose and prowling for his next fuck.

_You just got off, look what it did for you. Imagine he could use the release himself..._

Logan shook his head at that and decided simply to stop thinking about everything. Nothing was going to go wrong tonight. Nothing at all.


	7. Chapter 7

(Seven)

It was late at night when Remy snuck Molly in to see Kristalay. Molly hadn't wanted to wait -- when she had business to take care of, she got to it promptly and this was no exception. Gambit was nervous, but kept quiet about it. If she demanded justice, he would deliver it, but didn't relish the idea of actually killing anyone. He was a sneak and a thief, but not a murderer by nature. He hoped that once she saw Kristalay all smashed up, she might change her mind. It wasn't that Krsitalay didn't deserve it, but he was worried that a rash decision would prey on Molly's mind later on, once the passion was gone. He didn't want her to have to live with a mistake.

Gambit used his skills to get them past the nurses on duty, using some of his hand to hand expertise to carefully knock out the guards Logan had out in place. Wolverine had made the mistake on calculating on Kristalay trying to get out, not someone getting in. He hadn't placed his best men there and Remy got past them quickly, being careful not permanently injure them.

Once free to move about, they snuck up to Kristalay's bed. He was on his back, both legs up in traction. He was covered in bandages and tubes, some still stained with blood as his body stubbornly refused to heal. He was a mess and not even close to being a threat to anyone.

**_You still sure you want to do this? _**Remy signed in the dark, letting her decide.

**_Yes, _**she replied, her body surprisingly calm. She showed no tension, no anticipation of the coming rush of vengeance. **_Wake him up._**

Remy raised the lights in the room a little and then gave Kristalay a nudge, starting this. " 'Ey, fuckface. Wake up!"

Kristalay groaned softly and opened one eye, peering up into the gloom. He took a sniff instinctively, but he couldn't use his senses like that anymore, Jael had seen to that. "Who's there?"

"Heh, sucky t'ing, 'avin' to figure dat shit out like de rest of us."

Kristalay coughed and shifted on the bed, recognizing the voice at once. "What you want, Cajun? A piece of me while you still can? Always were a bit of a pussy."

Remy just grinned. "Non. **She** does."

Kristalay opened his eyes a little wider, squinting in the dimly lit room as he tried to make her out. He didn't quite remember her and he struggled to figure all this out. He'd only met Molly once years ago and it had been brief. It was lost under the brainwipe from SHIELD and all the other crap he'd been through. "Who're you?"

Molly gestured quickly with her hands, grunting softly.

"What's that shit?" Kristalay complained, impatient to get to the part where they told him what the fuck was going on. Then they'd beat him up some more and he could go back to sleep. He had no idea of the level of danger he was actually in.

"Dis 'ere fille, she can't talk so good, no t'anks to you." Gambit reached across to the small bedside lamp and turned it on a single click, adding more light without blinding them all. He raised Molly's chin, showing Kristalay her scars. "She don' talk so good, but she got a lot to say."

"I'll bet," Kristalay snapped, bored with this. This was so lame.

Remy reached out and slapped him, getting his attention. "Listen up, fils de la putain!"

Molly gestured again and Remy began to translate. **_You killed my momma. You killed my sister. You took my voice and the sad part is, I'll bet you don't even remember it._**

"I'm sorry, kid," Kristalay grumbled, just wanting to get this over with. Clearly this kid needed some closure, but why the fuck did she have to do it the middle of the night? The pain was creeping in and he wanted nothing more than another shot of Henry's junk, or better yet, Kimble's touch.

Molly growled and lashed out suddenly, cutting his face with her claws. There would be no mercy, not until she said her piece. **_Don't you give me 'sorry', you monster! You just remember this! I came down here to kill you. The only reason you're still alive right now is because of me!_**

Kristalay snorted. He looked into her eyes and saw only a young girl. "You don't have the balls."

Molly lunged with sudden swiftness, climbing up onto the bed and making Kristalay grunt from the pain of it. She wasn't big, but her weight was enough to wake the agony in his guts that Henry's meds had so graciously put to sleep. The pain was unbelievable and hard to bear from someone who was so used to just healing and getting over it. Her tiny hands found his throat and choked off his air, startling him with her strength. He squirmed, but was far too weak and too bandaged to defend himself. His tawny eyes jumped to Remy, but found no support. The thief had backed away to the door, glancing out to see that they hadn't drawn attention to themselves. He was protecting Molly.

Once Molly had satisfied herself that Kristalay had gotten the point, she released his throat, but didn't move away. Instead she gestured again, her hands right in his face. **_I had every intention of killing you, ever since I saw you back at the house all those years ago. You were my personal nightmare, you sick fuck, but you know what? I'm going to forgive you --- for now. You see, I saw the way Kimble looked at you. He's never looked at anyone else like that, that I can remember, except maybe Remy. For him to look at you that way, there has to be something inside of you that only he can see. It has to be something good, because he only sees the good in people. I suggest you take that very seriously, Father. Redeem yourself. Redeem yourself or so help me, I'll kill you myself. That's a promise!_** She snarled at him once for emphasis and then left, climbing off of him the most painful way possible and walking out.

Kristalay gasped, wheezing in pain. "Christ! Who is that kid, huh? She really mine?"

Remy just grinned. "Oui. She also my wife."

"God help you, Cajun."

"Non. God 'elp you, you don' listen. Au revoir, pet."

Remy slipped out, stepping over the guards who were showing signs of waking. He knew there would be repercussions for tonight's little excursion, but that was for later. All he wanted now was to track Molly down and make sure she was okay. He reached out with his power, opening up a window in his mind. He could see her vibrations of powerful emotions like a vapor trail in the air and followed them quickly, shadowing her as she made her way up to the surface and the landing strips above the complex. She wanted some fresh air.

He was only a couple of paces behind her when she came out the topside door and surprised the guard there. There was a guard shack by each entrance that was always manned. Perry was up tonight, reading his newspaper and not paying the least bit attention to the camera that showed the stairwell going up. He bolted upright from his stool as the door smashed open, his mouth open wide in surprise. It was always quiet here on the night shift and he wasn't the least bit prepared for the noise. Molly showed him her badge quickly and took off for one of the planes, not caring if he'd seen it or not.

"Je suis de'sole, Perry," Remy apologized to the guard as he followed her out. "We just out fo' some air."

"Right," Perry said with a sideways grin. More likely these two had been up fighting, judging from the look on Molly's face. He didn't argue or follow them just logged the time on his board and went back to his paper.

Remy followed his wife out to one of the Blackbirds, happy when she finally stopped under one of the wheels. She was stronger and faster than he was, especially now with his leg trying to recover. His thigh was throbbing with a dull ache and his knee was tight, a warning that he'd been pushing his luck. He was going to be stiff and sore in the morning. He crept up behind her, knowing her senses were much too strong for her to be startled by him, and slid his arms around her.

She allowed the embrace, leaning back into him automatically and starting to cry. She had tried to keep in control, not wanting to melt down in front of Creed. She knew that if she had, he never would have taken her seriously. She relaxed as Remy whispered soft French in her ear. She understood none of it, but was calmed by his sweet words and the vibrations of his love. He was proud of her for her restraint she could feel it, she knew he didn't want her to kill her own father, that the pain of it would never leave her. **_I love you,_** she gestured finally. **_Thanks for sneaking me in._**

"Pas de quoi, cher. Anyt'ing fo' you, you know dat."

_**He's -- he's so broken. I had no idea it was that bad. He doesn't look like how I remember him.**_

" 'E been down a hard road. One 'e deserve, I t'ink we both know it," Remy replied, not wanting Kristalay to get any more sympathy than he deserved. He paused before asking, " 'Ow long you know 'e yo' dad, chere?"

**_He smells like Sandy did, my sister._** It was all she would say.

"You okay wit it?"

_**I'll be all right. I meant what I said. If he fucks up or hurts anyone, I don't care who it is, he's dead.**_

"Gambit will be right dere wit you, fille. Don' you worry."

Molly relaxed against him and they stood there awhile, just looking up at the sky and all of the stars. He loved her intensely and kissed her ear, licking her as he rocked her gently. He could stand here all night, just so long as she was here next to him. He was grateful that things had gone so well, her capacity for forgiveness was vast and startling. It was though she was some kind of saint, a walking wellspring of mercy. It was this ability for forgiveness that allowed their relationship to ensure. She might forgive, but she was no pushover. She was willful and strong, traits that had attracted him and bound her to him forever.

Eventually Molly tired and they went back down to their flat to rest. Perry watched them go, a smile on his face. He knew the drill. Like any good couple they had made up and now they would go bed, make love and argue another day. He logged the time on his board and went back to his paper, hoping the rest of the night would go quietly.

----------------------------------------

Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair, weary to the bone. It wasn't easy being head honcho of this impromptu army and the latest news hadn't been good.

His thoughts were following the same lines Logan had. They were fighting a war on two fronts. The human element was a serious concern. SHIELD was probably looking for them, the X-men had dropped off the map, taking Kimble with them, a prisoner. No doubt the head of that organization, Nick Fury, had a head full of questions. When it came to the activities of savage mutant factions, the X-men seemed to have a heads up that SHIELD had fallen back on more than once.

There were the human hate groups as well. Friends of Humanity and others. Rioting had broken out across the country and innocent mutants were scrambling. Charles had sent out silent signals to those in the know that safety could be found at the abandoned Institute at Westchester, at least for now. There was medical treatment available there and for some, a trip here to Arizona. It was a risk, yes. But truth be told, Charles could use all the firepower he could get right now. He needed to boost his ranks if what Henry had just told him was true -- Jael knew where they were and was threatening to do something about it if Kimble wasn't turned over. Charles knew there was no way he was going to give Kimble up -- or Seth for that matter. He just wasn't sure how far Jael was going to push this.

Charles rubbed his eyes. Sometimes the weight was so heavy. He had distributed quite a bit of it amongst his "Generals" — Scott, Logan, Warren, Henry and others. Was it going to be enough?

The role of the X-men in this society wasn't clearly defined. They had started out as mutant mediators in the conflicts of those who threatened anyone, mutant or human alike. Over the years, the battles were becoming more and more against their fellow mutants. Battles which were unfortunately becoming bloodier and more dangerous. He considered himself lucky that he'd lost only four or five students over the years, but the fact was his older guards were just that, older. As much as he didn't like the idea, it was time to retire some of his more senior people. Most of them were married now and had kids of their own. It was too risky. That last attack on Gambit had frightened him badly. The thief could have been lost, and as much as Remy was a royal pain in the ass at times, he was also a personal favorite.

Remy and Logan would always be important to him. They were his reformed ones, the criminals that had been brought back into the good light. Remy had been a talented thief with a long criminal history, Logan a savage soldier who had killed and savaged his way through private ops for the Canadian government. Both had at one time deemed themselves unsalvageable, both now had found a real place for themselves working for him. Charles needed them around not so much for their special abilities, but to remind him of his goals, of his accomplishments. He loved them both dearly and to lose either one would wound him deeply.

But back to business. Would Jael allow him the luxury of retiring the older guard? Who knew? Henry's news about the tracking device was not exactly encouraging. Charles was forced to admit that he needed his people, but maybe there was more training of the younger crews that needed to be done. Some of that old guard experience needed to be spread around. He would need to set up more training sessions. Good thing the new Danger Room was already on line. They were going to need it.

Another issue was battle stress. The X-men lived at the same high intensity pace as any over-stressed group, like firemen, policemen, or a true high ops soldier. Every day could be their last, the risks were sometimes that great. Amazing he didn't have more suicides and drug use among his crew. It was one of the reasons he pushed the exercising so much, --- sound body, sound mind, he was hoping. The risks were growing greater both outside and inside the Complex.

The tension in the building had risen considerably at Sabretooth's arrival. It was difficult to have an old enemy so close. The urge to exact vengeance was hard to ignore, the mercy training difficult to understand when there was a brutal murdering rapist in their midst just ripe for the taking. Remy's night time visit hadn't gone unnoticed, how could it? Two of Logan's guards had been knocked unconscious by the talented thief, one had a broken wrist. It was something he would have to deal with and swiftly. He doubted Gambit was the only one wanting a peace of that monster. What if Sabretooth wasn't the only criminal this new war brought in? What if others happened to show up and offer their services?

The X-men weren't the only group out there, Charles was painfully aware of that. Just last year there had been some kind of nuclear crisis in North Korea. Fingers had been teetering on the edge of pushing those oh, so tempting little buttons. Then just as suddenly as it started, it was over. The X-men hadn't been involved. Seth's intense probing of the SHIELD computers showed that some other mutant faction had stepped in, a faction that no one had known about. They went in, disarmed, and walked out, leaving only a note of condecision, saying the Earth wasn't theirs to destroy so fuck off already. Of course that last little tidbit was kept out of the news, it had all been covered up, saying some agreement had been reached an all the parties had stood down. Yeah, they stood down all right. They had no weapons left. Of course those nukes were who knows where by now. Just the thought of it made the Professor's skin crawl.

There was a knock on the door and at his soft word, his next problem arrived.

"Bonjour, 'Fessor. You wanted ta see me?"

"Yes, Remy. Take a seat."

Gambit limped in and dropped himself onto a large comfy sofa, sprawling his long legs out and taking it over. He was dressed for downtime, ratty old jeans tighter than sin, faded T-shirt. The Professor didn't see this often, Gambit was one of his more active players. It wasn't often that Remy missed a mission. These past days must have been an agony for him.

It didn't escape Charles' notice that the thief had avoided the seat directly in front of his desk. He knew better than to try and probe this one's mind, Gambit had formed powerful mental shields long before he'd ever come to work for him. It was only recently that they had learned of his latent empathy, Kimble had brought it out. The shields had been necessary for his survival.

"It's been a long time since we've had a chance to talk, you and me," Charles began.

Remy smiled, closing his eyes. He was still insecure to a point and it always gave him pleasure when someone made him feel welcome. "Ain't like I ain't been 'angin' round doin' nuthin'. You de one bein' so busy an' all. I'm always around anytime you wanna lose yo' ass at poker."

"Yes, I know. Things have been quite busy here. How is your leg? I see the brace is gone."

"Oui. 'Enry say it 'ealin' right quick," Remy replied with a casual smoothness he didn't really feel. He knew this was just the small talk before the lecture began. He didn't have to wait long.

"You had a late visit with our Mister Creed last night."

Remy squinted, trying to decide to evade or take this head on. Best to get it over with.

"Oui."

"Care to explain why?"

"Molly 'ad issues she needed to take up wit dear ol' dad."

Charles blinked in surprise. "How long have you known?"

Remy just grinned shamelessly. "A while.'

"And what did she say to him?"

"She say, 'Be on yo' bes' behavior, y' 'ear? Or I'm gonna rip you a new one, daddy or non.' Sumptin' along dose lines." Those red on black eyes turned to him, suddenly serious. "She was gonna kill him, comprenez? But den she let it go, like she always do. She a strong girl, mon ami. Strong, strong girl."

Charles considered Remy's reply before speaking. "It would have been better to have just brought her during visiting hours."

"Didn't know what she was gonna do 'til she done it."

"And would you have let her do it? Let her kill him?"

Remy closed his eyes for a moment. "Non. Gambit would 'ave done it for 'er."

There it was again, that disassociation, as if Gambit was someone other than himself. "I've taught you better than that, Remy. There is no need for killing, not in these walls," Charles said, his voice serious, but not condescending. He was trying to reach out to Remy's heart.

"Dat maudite connard done a lot of damage ta me an' mine. Sometimes...sometimes a man reach a limit, y' know?"

Charles looked over at him, seeing the lie. How Gambit hid his nobility, it was as if he was afraid of it somehow. "You would have spared Molly the pain."

Gambit wouldn't look at him.

This was going better than Charles had expected. Gambit didn't like to talk, he preferred to evade, but he was opening up more as he grew older. As Gambit had spoken the lie, Remy had let some of those shields drop, letting the Professor in. It was better to let Charles feel his thoughts than to articulate them.

"I cannot allow brutality in my building. We must have some sense of order."

Remy nodded, submissive to his mentor.

"Perhaps you have too much time on your hands."

Remy's head perked up, the thought of a mission bringing instant joy to his heart. He'd been hanging around much too long. "Oui, patron?"

"There are many new people coming in. They will need training."

Remy groaned and covered his face with his long elegant hands. "Non, non, non, s'il vous plait! Not a class!"

"Oh, yes. You are officially on probation. Since you felt well enough to apply your talents to Logan's guards, you are in shape enough for a self defense class or two. Henry has already approved it with you on the side and an assistant to do the physical work for now."

"Don' do dis..."

"I could put you in a cell," the Professor offered playfully, knowing he had Remy cold.

Remy turned and looked at him, eyes blazing but lips smiling. Inwardly, he was relieved to have been let off so lightly. It could have been a lot worse. "For you, Gambit will do dis."

"Good. Now tell Gambit he starts in an hour."

"An hour!" Remy stood at that, all indignation.

"Yes, so I suggest you hurry. Logan will be there to start you off. Off you go."

Gambit grumbled, but got moving. He paused at the doorway and looked back at his mentor when Charles spoke his name again. "Oui, patron?"

"Kimble is not to see Creed again. He's already been told."

"Oui. Gambit knows. Talked about it wit 'im already."

Kimble had come to him first thing that morning, all tears and indignation. He didn't understand. Gambit tried to explain that they were all just concerned that Sabertooth might try to screw with his head, Creed wasn't quite sane himself and hardly trustworthy. Kimble was stubborn, crying and swallowing foul curses flung at Logan's direction until Remy simply replied to him, " 'E don' deserve you. 'E never did. Leave it alone, pet."

Kimble had looked up at him, his eyes full of pain. "I hafta see him, it's all cuz a' me. I hafta ..."

"Quoi? Make up for it? Dis not yo' trouble. 'Enry's gonna take care of 'im, cher."

Kimble shook his head. "None of yous understand."

"Gambit understands all 'bout makin' up, de one not listenin' is you. Let it go. 'E's gonna be fine. Be 'appy wit knowin' 'e's still alive."

Kimble made for the door, his vibrations all agitated and of course, still being very stubborn.

"You go an try to see 'im, cher, Logan's gonna put you away. Leave it. Take care of Angel, dat's all you should be worryin' about now. Can't do dat from a cell."

Kimble merely nodded and walked out, his head down. Since then the pilot had been quiet.

Back in the Professor's office, Charles was speaking to his thief. "Is he going to be any trouble?"

" 'E ain't 'appy 'bout it, but non. No trouble dere, I t'ink. Me an' Molly will keep an' eye on 'im, je promets."

"Good. We've had too much trouble around here already. Kimble needs to be protected and kept sheltered. This was spectacularly bad timing."

"Everyt'ing's shipshape, non?"

"Yes. As you already know the new Danger Room's on-line, another reason I need you for classes. The main shield generator is functional. Barring a major invasion, we're good for the now. What concerns me is Jael's next move. I can't imagine it's going to be something obvious."

"Whatever it is, we're up for it," Remy said, nodding at his mentor and walking out. He couldn't guess what Jael had in mind, something they least expected no doubt. He only hoped they would have some time to prepare. He couldn't know of course that time was a luxury they didn't have.

To be continued in Betrayal.


End file.
